Rule 1: An Effective Detective Never Falls In Love
by Dimensional Traveller
Summary: 17 yr old Lily Snyder has always been trapped under her father's thumb, until she's recruited by the Pinkerton Detective Agency. While helping to gather evidence against her father, she falls for the handsome Jack Kelly, who doesn't seem to notice her.
1. How Lily Met Jack

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Lillian "Lily" Snyder. I also own Grace and Pretty. **

_**(A/N: This is the first time I've ever written from a Victorian Lady's point of view. She's stuck up in this chapter, but it's only a type of "mask" to hide who she really is. :) I promise. Also, look for twists in future chapters. There's also a video I made on Youtube, that's almost a trailer for this story, but it's for all Jack fans :). )**_

_**Two Months Before the Newsboy Strike...**_

17 year old Lillian Snyder sat on the bench in front of the duck pond in Central Park. She had just left the refuge after having lunch with her father, the warden. Her schooling had ended last year and she wished to look for a job; only to find out at lunch her father was looking for a rich man for her to marry. It wasn't a disaster nor a calamity, the idea of looking for a husband was rather....Nerve wracking. Men seemed so odd and she always worried about finding a good man.

Her older sister, who had been married 3 years ago, assured her each time she visited she would find a good man one day. During her last visit on Easter with her father, her sister, Grace, had pulled her to the side and whispered to her, _"Give your heart to the man you want to. Money matters not, together you two will make money and a life together. Do not let father make you wed someone you do not love."_

"Extry! Extry! Man boined in sudden fire on Ellis Island! Extry!"

Lily jumped before throwing a hand over her heart, there were times the park was so quiet that she forgot the newsies even existed. She stood and brushed the wrinkles from her white blouse and ankle length black skirt; her hair had been into a twisted bun by Madeline, her personal maid, that morning. Atop her head she wore her mother's old straw hat, which her father never approved of her or her sister wearing. She had disguised it today by tying a long silk ribbon around the crown and tucking flowers' stems under the ribbon.

"Would youse like to buy a pape, miss?" The newsie questioned as he walked over to her.

Lily turned to face him and froze, her mouth fell open slightly and a blush crept over her cheeks. A newsboy who dressed quite like a cowboy stood before her in gray pants; a light blue long sleeved button down shirt; a black and white pin striped vest; and a red bandana. A rope was tied around his waist and a cowboy hat hung behind his shoulders. His face was extremely handsome, his dark blue eyes sparkled, and the smile across his face had her heart beating wildly.

"Yes...I would like to purchase a paper," she smiled and pulled the draw string of her purse of her wrist. She pulled open the small white bag and handed the newsboy two pennies.  
"Youse want to buy two papes?"

"Just one," she smiled, "You look rather hungry and the man over there is selling large pretzels for a penny each today."

"Well, t'ank youse miss," the cowboy smiled to her and handed her a newspaper. He began to walk off.

"Wait..."

"Yes?" He turned, an eyebrow raised.

"Could...Could I ask....What is your name?"

"Me name?"

"Yes."

"Jack Kelly, miss," he smiled.

"Jack Kelly," she smiled, "Mine is..." She trailed off at seeing the newsboy had already walked off. She frowned and muttered, "Lillian Snyder."

_**July...**_

"It was pleasant to meet you, Mr. Busby," Lily gave a fake smile at the tall heir of the Busby Times Newspaper.

The tall man gave a smirk, "It was nice to meet you as well, Miss Snyder," he replied as he took her hand a placed a long and gentle kiss on the top of it. "I would very much like to take you to the opera this weekend, would you do me the honor of joining me?"

Lily looked up at Alexander Busby and from the corner of her eye caught her father's quick frown. Warden Snyder cleared his throat and Lily jumped a little.

"I would be delighted, sir," she smiled and gave a curtsey.

He gave a bow, "Than I shall see you on Saturday evening, Miss Snyder. I look forward to it." He smiled and took his top hat from the hat rack and placed it atop his head, then grabbed hold of his cane and left. James, her father's butler and carriage driver, shut the door after him.

Lily bit back a sigh of relief and took her tea hat off and placed it on the rack.

"I want to hear all about it," her father grinned, "This is the third courting night you have had in a row with this young man. How are you two getting along? He seems rather taken with you, Lillian."

"He is a perfect gentleman," Lily replied, "He's kind and well mannered. I feel we are getting along rather well." She didn't reply to the last comment. She wanted to please her father, she knew his job was not rewarding and the children were always treating him poorly and calling him names. Also, one boy named Francis Sullivan, kept running from her father. One of these days that boy would be her father's death!

For nearly twenty minutes she recounted her night with Alexander until her father patted her hand, kissed her on the forehead, and stood.

"I need to get back to the refuge now, I'll be home at the usual time."

An hour after he left Lily began to bake cookies, she needed an excuse to be at the distribution center the next morning. She wanted to see Jack again, to see if her heart gave the same reaction to him as it did before. She needed to prove to herself she could fall in love with anyone....Anyone other than the skanky cat like man, Alexander Busby.

It was nearly ten at night when she went to bed, and fell asleep half an hour later with a smile on her face a heart filled with hope.

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The next morning Lily dressed in a modest navy blue gown. It's sleeves hugged her arms down to her wrists, where they ended in white lacy cuffs. The collar started at the base of her neck, from there the top of the dress was decorated with two lacy strips on both sides, down the middle was a long row of twelve buttons. The dress had its own built in fabric v shaped belt, from there the skirt draped down to her ankles. From there the tops of her dark leather brown boots could be seen.

"Miss, would you like me to comb your hair?"

"No, It's alright, I'll do it," she replied, "Thank you anyway, Madeline."

"Do you plan to go out today, miss?"

"Yes, why?"

"Your father wants you to visit him at the refuge at lunch time. Mr. Busby will be there as well."

Lily paused at hearing that and took a long moment to answer, "Alright, I shall be there." She swallowed and hoped the meeting was not about an engagement. Then she pushed the thought aside and pulled her hair into a chignon (pronounced sheen-yon) and put her straw hat atop her head.

Half an hour later she was nearly to the World Distribution Center, her stomach twisted in fear. Would the newsies think she was a stuck up girl trying to trick them into something? She hoped not. Hopefully they'd except the sugar cookies for what they were, a gift. Would Jack even recognize her?

She shook her head, unsure of why she cared if he recognized her or not. But for some reason she cared....She cared too much. She had never felt this way about any boy her age before. She would have to send her sister a wire and ask if she felt the same when she met Oscar Delancey for the first time. Grace had fallen hard for the younger Delancey brother, and in turn he for her. Then they were separated when Nathan Snyder forced his daughter to marry a wealthy industrialist from New Jersey.

Lily passed the Horace Greenly statue and clutched tighter to the draw string of the cookie bag when she saw the newsies all gathering in front of the gates. They were laughing and joking, while the younger ones were sword fighting or being picked up and twirled by the older ones. She noticed there were a handful of newsgirls as well. Before she could get to the large group Oscar and Morris pushed their way through the crowd.

"Deah me, what is dat unpleasant aroma? I fear da sewer may have backed up durin' da night," exclaimed an Italian boy as he waved his hat in front of his face.

"Nah, too rotten!" Exclaimed a few other boys.

"Must be..."

"Da Delancey Bruddas!" Exclaimed a tall boy leaning on a crutch.

Lily decided to keep a few feet away, like her mother she had feelings right before something was about to happen. If it was good, she'd feel extremely happy for no reason; if bad she'd tense; or if it was just a feeling and one she couldn't quite understand she'd do what she was doing: staying back.

Her feeling proved her right a moment later the Delanceys were chasing Jack around, the chase went on for a good five or six minutes before the gates creaked open. Lily followed the newsies into the Distribution center.

"Ain't youse a bit pretty ta be in heah?" Questioned a short newsgirl with long blonde hair and a sour attitude.

"I just came to give you all a morning treat," she smiled and reached into the bag to give the girl a cookie.

"We'se don't want youse back of 'treats' get lost." The newsgirl snarled.

"Pretty! Quit it!" Snapped a boy with an eye patch over his right eye, "I'se sorry miss, Pretty can be...Pretty stupid at times."

"Yeah, shoah, say dat now. But when I'se get youse butt outta trouble youse gonna be sayin' da exact opposite and beggin' me forgivness. Now if ya excuse me, I'se need ta get away from da poster girl," she stalked past and seemed to make it a point to brush by Lily's shoulder.

"Sorry, she's..."

"Stubborn?" Lily questioned with a smile, "I know someone whose a lot like that."

The boy chuckled, "Yeah, it's what happens when an Italian guy and a half Irish woman decide ta have a kid."

Lily laughed and handed him a cookie by the time the bag was almost empty she found Jack. He was talking to a boy around her age with curly brown hair and blue eyes. She recognized the boy instantly.

"David Jacobs!"

He turned and his eyes widened, as did his smile, "Lillian! What are you doing here?"

"I was bringing cookies for the newsies," she smiled as she handed one to Les.

"We'se newsies too!" Les smiled up at her.

"_We are_ newsies too," David corrected.

"Yeah, what he said," the ten year old beamed.

Lily laughed, "So I see. I'm looking for a job too,_" Any job that will provide a good escape from Alexander Busby _she thought to herself.

Lily looked over at Jack, "Hi Jack," she smiled and handed him two cookies.

"Uh...T'anks, have we'se met?" He questioned, his eyebrows arched.

Lily felt her heart sink, "You....Don't remember me?"

"Uh...I'se meet a lotta people," he replied as he scratched the back of his neck, "What's youse name?"

"You didn't stick around long enough for me to give it to you," she replied.

"Oh, well I'se heah now," he smiled as he bit into the cookie, his eyes widened, "Dis is good! He exclaimed as he chewed, "Really good."

"I'm glad you like it, my names Lillian Snyder."

Jack froze and coughed, spitting some of the cookie out in the process. Lily blinked, had she said something wrong?

"Whose...Daughter?"

"Warden Snyder's....I'm not a police officer, I don't care if you or anyone else here escaped from the refuge, I won't tell him."

"How do we'se know?" Questioned a tall boy behind her.

"He's trying to marry me off to a man I hate," she replied, "I would never wish for anyone to be trapped like that."

"I'se sorry ta heah dat," Jack replied, he glared at her with a look she recognized instantly as mistrust.

"Jack," Davey intervened, "It's alright, I know her and her sister. The Warden's their father. But they don't go around worshipping the ground he walks on. When we went to school together Lily used to come over to my apartment to stay away from her father as long as possible."

"He mean to youse awll too?"

"He's not mean....Just....Bossy," she replied, "And very strict...As well as intimidating when he wishes to be," she replied.

The newsie calmed, though he still looked a little concerned, "So, I'se heah youse been lookin' for me?"

She blushed, she had been asking every newsie she bought a pape from about Jack.

"You heard?"

"Yeah," he replied, "Deys call youse da pretty goil wid the crazy hair."

Lily blinked, "Crazy hair?"

"Because it's curly," David quickly interrupted, "Would you like us to walk you to your place?"

"Oh no, it's alright."

"Could she walk wid us?" Les questioned.

"Les," David sighed.

"Dat won't be such a good idea, kid," Jack smiled, "Well, I'se guess I'se will see you around," he smiled to her before turning to talk to David and Les again.

David glanced at her and muttered an apology before turning back to Jack. Lily heard something about 60 and 40.

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Lily had to admit her hopes had been shattered and she was taken aback at Jack's rudeness; she wasn't sure what she had done to deserve being shunned. She paused in front of the bakery and looked at her reflection: a freckled face girl of seventeen, her eyes shining with mixed emotions, her cheeks still a light pinkish color - evidence of the remnants of her first real attraction to a boy or man.

Oh well, at least she knew she had emotions. Besides, there were plenty of boys in the world....She paused, but for how long was she going to be able to be attracted to them? She pushed the thought out of her mind and told herself to grow up.

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"Why did you do that?" David asked later that day.

"Do what?"

"Shun Lillian? She did nothing to you."

"She's a hoity toity."

"Far from it," David replied, "She's shy and the fact she worked up the courage to come all the way to a place crowded with people says a lot. She's nice, Jack, and if she talks to you again, you should take notice."

"Nah," Jack replied as he watched Les sell a paper to a couple sitting on a nearby doorstep. "Remembah dat guy who was chasin' us earlier?"

"Yes."

"That was heh fadda," Jack replied, "Youse may know heh, but youse don't know heh old man. Knowin' him he probably has people out watchin' dat goil and I'se don't want any part of it. 'Sides it's awll over da papes."

"What's all over the papers?" David asked in confusion.

Jack opened the paper to the announcements section, "Dis," he replied.

David's mouth fell open at the main headline: _Alexander Busby Announces Engagement to Ms. Lillian Snyder._

"Yeah, she ain't starved for attention, Davey. She's marryin' a rich man."

"One she hates," David snorted, "Didn't you hear her talking about him? She obviously has no idea."

"She never mentioned his name," Jack replied, "C'mon, lets get youse and youse brudda home."


	2. Meet Lucinda The Pinkerton Detective

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters. I do not own the Pinkerton Detective Agency (they were the first detective agency to hire women). I own Madeline, and Lillian 'Lily' Snyder.**

_**(A/N:**_ _**Persona:**__** the mask or façade presented to satisfy the demands of the situation or the environment and not representing the inner personality of the individual; the public personality. The rules of the Pinkerton Detective Agency Lily reads are the original rules made by Allan Pinkerton in the early 1850's.)**_

The next morning Lily threw her blanket over her head when Madeline opened her curtains. She wanted to hide from the world, mainly her father and Alexander Busby. She had arrived at the refuge a few minutes before Noon. The moment she walked in he proposed, she had been so shocked and angry that words had refused to escape her throat. Her father had smiled and answered for her.

_"Of course she shall marry you, look how happy and excited she is!"_ He had smiled. For the first time in her life Lillian saw what the street kids and her older sister saw of their father: a devil in disguise. When Alexander took his leave an hour later her father had pulled her aside and threatened her: Marry Alexander or be out on the streets. If you get arrested and thrown into the refuge I'll treat you as the other children. You still have a year until your an adult, until then I have full control.

"Miss? It is morning..." Madeline said softly from the corner of the room.

"I know."

"There is someone here to see you, miss."

"Tell Alexander I'm sick."

"It's a woman, from the Pinkerton Detective Agency."

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A few minutes later Lily had dressed in a white blouse and ankle length pink skirt, she had shrugged on her boots and braided her hair. She walked quickly out of her room and ignored Madeline's intake of breath at seeing she was not in the least considered decent. She was missing her stockings, her hair was not pinned to the top of her head, and the blouse shouldn't have been worn without a shawl.

"May I help you?" She questioned curiously.

The woman in front of her turned and smiled. Lily's eyes doubled in size, the woman standing before her was Pretty the newsgirl. Only she was not wearing a man's trousers, nor was her hair partially hidden under a newsboy cap. She sneer on her face had vanished replaced with a small and surprisingly gentle smile. Her amber eyes didn't show the emotion they had a day before. She wore a long dark blue dress, it's collar ending just below her chin. Holding the collar shut was a cameo with an eye on it. She wore black leather gloves and clutched a parasol's handle in her hand.

"Good morning, Miss Snyder, I thought you would have been up by now," she smiled cheerfully.

"Pretty?!"

The woman laughed, "That is my assumed newsie name. It took months before the newsies finally trusted me," her face became serious, "I took a large risk coming in here in form of my true persona, Miss Snyder."

Lily blinked, she was dumbfounded, after a moment of stammering she managed to ask, "Who are you?"

"My name is Lucinda Addams, of course Addams is not my real last name, I can't go giving that away to someone I cannot yet trust. It is the Pinkerton way. I wanted to know what you were doing sniffing around Jack Kelly."

"I...Don't...'Sniff' people."

"It's a detective term," she replied, "You seemed rather...Intent to speak with him."

Lily shrugged, "I just wanted to see if I got a feeling about him, the same feeling I had when he sold me a newspaper two months ago. I had it. But, he wanted nothing more than to be rid of me so I gave him his wish."

"Ah, I see. You're experiencing your first real attraction," Lucinda replied before she sat down on the sofa. "At first, I must admit I thought you were like all the other girls who walk past the newsies, or attempt to be...Charitable to them. But then I followed you around, I was rather surprised to see you have a secret life."

Lily shut her mouth quickly, her heart pounded. She did have a secret life, sort of. She had a job, she crocheted lace that would later be sewn onto fancy dresses and tea hats. It was her own way of having a little control over her life. Perhaps not much, but enough for a growing foundation that would hopefully one day lead to her growing a backbone. One day she would take control of her life, have her own home, and would not be forced to take orders from her father.

"Then I saw you were engaged to a man you seem to despise, do you despise Mr. Alexander Busby, Miss Snyder?"

"No, I worship at his feet every morning," Lily replied in sarcasm.

Lucinda suddenly laughed, "My, I see there is much I did not know about you. Well then, after I followed you around and saw who you really were I noticed you too had....Skills in investigating. You went behind Alexander's back and learned about a completely different side of him almost unknown to the world, and you were not caught. I have shared what I learned my employer, he is fully ready to hire you, I will train you."

"Wait...Wait...You just hire people off the streets? What about detective schooling?"

"Oh, yes, we have that but there isn't time. Dear oh dear, I am getting ahead of myself, aren't I? Do you know why you live this large apartment have a maid and butler?"

"Because my father's paycheck is somewhat large, though I suspect he is stealing from the refuge's funds."

"Exactly," Lucinda replied, "The problem is that we do not have any evidence of this. I know you love your father, however I also know you are tired of living under his thumb. I also know you are angry with him for forcing you to marry Alexander Busby. If you help us find evidence of your father's crimes, we shall help you."

"And how will you help me?"

"First, you will have a job...A real job; secondly, you will not have to marry Mr. Busby; and thirdly you will be the fifth female detective in history." She smiled, "I have taken a shine to you, Miss Snyder, do not make me regret my decision."

Lily paused, the new information ran around her head quickly. She paused and pinched her arm then winced, she was awake and alive. She flicked a lose strand of hair out of her face and questions began forming in her mind.

"Why me? Why not someone who works in the refuge, or Madeline even?"

"Well every employee in that refuge is cruel and crooked. Secondly, Madeline is the third female detective in the Pinkerton Agency. We hired her when she was about your age, since then she has been gathering information, but the warden never speaks to her unless it is to tell her to do something."

"Madeline is a detective?" Lily's eyes widened.

"Oh yes, one of our best," she smiled, "She must be to have put up with your father for all these years."

"It is a tough job," Madeline exclaimed while walking out of the kitchen carrying a metal tray with a coffee pot and three cups and saucers on it. Her accent had changed from plain to British. "I'll give ye that, even tougher when Mrs. Snyder died. Just about broke my achin' heart to watch yer poor sister bein' married off to a man she hated. Then to see the same thing happen to you."  
"Madeline and I met at Tibby's last night and discussed your attitude, disposition, and trustworthiness before even speaking with our employer," Lucinda replied.

"I had no idea..." Lily paused, "How do I know this is not some elaborate prank?"

"I told ye, she's always suspicious, this one," Madeline chimed.

Lucinda reached into her small black purse and took out her badge. Madeline reached into a hidden pocket on the inside of her apron and took out hers. The badge was like a police officer's, only it was silver and had the words: _Pinkerton National, _then a line with a star in the middle of it followed by the words, _Detective Agency._

"You are telling the truth," Lily whispered in shock, "What...What do you want me to do?"

"Well first of all we need to spend the morning training, you will be needing a whole new attitude. Basically you are about to become an entirely different person."

"What do you mean?" Lilly frowned.

Lucinda leaned forward, "It is time to grow up. I know for a fact you look just like your mother, which is the reason your father is marrying you off rather early. It is time that you became close to your father, gather all the evidence you can of his crimes, and then you will simply....Disappear."

"It's a hard job, dearie, you have to pretend to be many different people, are you ok with it?" Madeline questioned.

Lily paused, then nodded, "Anything is better than having to be the person my father is forcing me to be."

"Wonderful," Lucinda beamed, "You shall become a grown woman now. Use larger words, and for heaven's sake, until we say it is safe to, do _not_ go around The World Distribution Center, or Jack Kelly."

She reached into her purse, "Read these over."

Lily blinked and read the list out loud. "Accept no bribes; never compromise with criminals; partner with local law enforcement agencies, when necessary; refuse divorce cases or cases that initiated scandals of clients; turn down reward money (detectives are paid well); never raise fees without the client's pre-knowledge; and apprise clients on an ongoing basis."

"It is the Pinkerton Code of Ethics and the rules, you must live by them from now on."

"Wait, if I can't compromise with criminals, then how can I speak to one and live with one?" Lily questioned, part of her felt uneasy about going behind her father's back. He had fed, clothed, and cared for her....For heaven's sake he was her father! But he was not the man she remembered when her mother was alive. He was greedy, cruel, and self centered. When her mother was alive he was kind, sweet, and a hard working man who believed in justice for all, children included.

She put herself in the mind frame that she was working with the two detectives for her father's own good as well as her own.

"Oh no, dearie," Madeline said, "It just means you cannot accept money from them and turn your back on his misdeeds and crimes. It also means you can never reveal your true identity to him from now on."

"How do I know you both will keep your end of this? I want evidence."

"Spoken like a true detective," Lucinda smiled, "I will be by your house this evening to bring you to my employer."

"What's his name?"  
"You'll know when he introduces himself," Madeline replied, "It is best that way," she stood and her form lost its confidence as she slightly slumped again. She took the tray and scurried out to the kitchen, once again becoming the shy and skittery maid Lily knew her to be since she was 12.

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Pulitzer, Hearst, and all the other newspaper giants had jacked up their prices. The information had been a shock to Jack, after learning it was true he, with Davey's help, began a strike. However there was not enough newsies yet for there to be an actual strike, they needed Brooklyn, Harlem, Midtown, Queens, Long Island, and Little Italy.

"So is this....Spot Conlon really dangerous?" David questioned as he walked with Jack and Boots across the Brooklyn Bridge.

Jack laughed, "Oh yeah, he's dangerous when he wants ta be. But me and Boots heah ah good friends of his."

"Spot and Jack are best friends," Boots replied, "Sometimes I'se t'ink deys bruddas."

Jack glanced over at David, surprised he didn't have another barrel full of questions. His thoughts returned to Sarah Jacobs, the tall and sweet older sister of David and Les. She reminded him of a porcelain doll. Then, for some reason Sarah's face left his mind and that Lily girl's face took its place. Unlike Sarah she was not tall, but short. She only reached up to his shoulders. She was a freckled face girl who didn't seem to yet realize she wasn't an adult yet.

"Think Brooklyn will help us?" David asked.

"I'se hope so," Jack replied. The long walk to the docks was boring and quiet. He had no doubt that David was probably shaking in his boots, but most new newsies had the same reaction when it came to the mighty King of Brooklyn. But what not many newsies knew was that the mighty king had fallen for a mere messenger girl; who, in turn, was clueless to the fact the newsie king even noticed her.

As they walked past a small clothing shop Jack did a double take.

"What is it?" David asked.

"Nothin'," Jack replied. He backed up and peered inside the window, she was standing in front of a mirror trying on a light violet dress. It was modest and only slightly fancy, but very dignified at the same time. Beside her stood a woman with blonde hair that was coiled in a bun at the nape of her neck. The blonde looked familiar, but he couldn't place her. His focus went back to Lillian Snyder, she looked happy. Hell, she was _glowing_ with happiness. It was as if she had stepped out of her old life and into someone else's. Then a woman brought out a long white gown followed by a veil. Jack's stomach crashed, the dress was a wedding dress, and the moment Lily saw it she frowned.

The blonde was quickly talking to her, trying to calm her. Jack had practiced reading lips, though he couldn't read them overly well, he was able to somewhat make out that the dress was just 'for show' until 'the job was finished.' Whatever that meant.

"Jack, youse comin'?" Boots asked.

"Yeah, I'se comin'," he replied. He forced his thoughts to return to the matter at hand: the strike. And decided that if he wanted any woman in his life, it would be Sarah Jacobs.

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"Are you sure it's only for show?"

"I swear I would not lie to you," Lucinda replied as she paid for the clothing.

Lily was wearing her new dress, it was made from a golden colored fabric with light yellow flower pattern on the sleeves. The sleeves were tight, as were all her dress's sleeves. However, the dress did not have a collar, instead it had a sharply pointed 'v' that ended just before her it revealed too much. The bodice of the dress was tight with a row of glass buttons that ended at her waist. The bodice ended with a 'v' like the collar, only it was wider and slightly curved. From there the skirt began and ended at the tips of her new light brown boots. Atop her head she wore a golden hat with different types of flowers around the top of it.

"Open your parasol, you are an adult now, show your stature by keeping the sun from your face," Lucinda chided as the male clerk loaded the dresses into the carriage. Three (including the one she was wearing) would be given to Madeline to put into her closet. The rest would be new wardrobe when this job was over.

Lily opened her parasol and held it above her head, the ivory handle slipped a little due to the soft silk gloves she wore. She glanced around the street and her eyes widened at seeing Jack Kelly, but his back was turned to her. David and another newsboy were walking away.

"Probably to the Brooklyn Docks to see Spot Conlon."

"Who?"

"Spot Conlon, Brooklyn, he is the newsie king," Lucinda replied, "You need to learn this things. One day you'll be working with us on another case we had to put on hold."  
"What case is that?"

Lucinda paused, "All I can say is it deals with Francis Sullivan's father, and I know you know who Francis Sullivan is."

"The boy my father keeps chasing, that is all I know," Lily shrugged.

"Francis Sullivan is Jack Kelly," Lucinda replied, "Not a word about that knowledge. Not even the newsies know."

"How do you know?" Lily's eyes widened in surprise, was there anything Lucinda _didn't_ know?

"It's my job to know, as it is now yours," the other woman replied, "I shall drop you off at the street corner, give the dresses to Madeline, then return to my life as Pretty. You know I will have to return to being....Snide with you. I apologize for this, but my persona as Pretty is that I must despise all upper class ladies. You see my history as Pretty is her mother was a lady who went insane and attempted to kill her family. Pretty and her mother were the only survivors. The only reason Pretty is still on the streets and her mother is not is because she turned her mother into the police, which is the only contact she has ever had with the 'bulls' as the newsies and other working children and adults know the police as."

"Will I need to develop a persona?"

"On future assignments, you will," Lucinda replied, "And whenever choosing a name and history for that persona: Always, Always, Always, use at least three letters of your first name throughout the entire name."

"Why?"

Lucinda paused, "There have been...Times when detectives are so stressed and so undercover they forget who they truly are. They live by their made up identity and history, convinced it is real. Keeping three letters of your name is enough to help us know who they are. Also if it were more than three criminals might be able to place two and two together and know your real name. Alright then, off you go."

"Lucinda, thank you."

"You are welcome, oh and do you recall how I said to stay away from Jack Kelly?"

"Yes, and the newsies," Lily replied.

"Stay away from the distribution center, but not the newsies," she replied, "They know things about Snyder that we don't. I know a few of the things, but I think Blink has taken a shine to you. He may be willing to tell you more than you tell me."

"The newsies are saying they are going on strike, is there any way I can support them?"

"I think that would marvelous, you'd make your father think you were trying to make the high class see him as being a rich and charitable man, do it." The dectetive paused, "And one very important rule: An Effective Detective Never Falls In Love!" She said before waving out the window of the carriage. The driver flicked the reigns and the carriage, along with Lucinda were out of her viewpoint a few minutes later.

"Well then, let's get this over with so I can start with a new life," Lily muttered to herself. It was time to have lunch with her father.


	3. The Locked Drawer & Jack's Father

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Grace and Lillian 'Lily' Snyder, Lucinda AKA Pretty, and Arthur. **_

_**(A/N: Rule 1: An Effective Detective Never Falls In Love fanfiction trailer is up on Youtube. You can also go to my profile page for the link there.)**_

_**-----------------------------------------------**_

The long walk to the refuge went normally. Women chatted in the marketplace, some greeted her and commented her new dress. The only thing abnormal was the quietness of the streets. She had looked around while she walked: there was not a newsie to be found. No newspapers were raised in the air; no shouts were echoing off the walls of buildings; no yells were piercing the ocean of city noises. She clutched her hands a little tighter around her parasol's handle. The streets seemed suddenly eerie without the friendly shouting of a newsie.

Lily soon observed she was not the only one feeling this way. Two women rushed past her, one carrying a wicker basket filled with different colored threads and yarns; the other carried a baby in her arms.

"The streets are almost frightening," commented the woman with the baby.

"Hearing the newsies and knowing they are near is a comfort," agreed the other as they walked ahead of Lily.

"I know many newsies are thieves, but many are not and have morals. One time my purse was stolen and a tall newsboy dressed as a cowboy pursued the thief and returned my purse to me. He took no money from me what so ever."

"How gentlemanly," commented the other woman, "Did you reward him?"

"Oh yes, I gave a nickel."

"That's an awful lot of money to be giving away."

"It was only a small price to pay compared to what I could have lost. Besides, he looked happy when he saw it was more than a penny."

The two ladies walked around the corner and Lily continued on her walk. A few minutes later she walked through the gates of the refuge. The police officers tipped their hats and gave a short and polite greeting. She walked into the lobby of the refuge, which also served sometimes as an orphanage. There were no excited parents waiting on the room's comfortable red couches today.

Lily lowered her parasol and placed it into the tall vase, which was made for holding canes and umbrellas.

"Good afternoon, Miss Snyder," smiled Officer Danvers, a tall blonde guard with sea green eyes and a smile that could melt any icy heart.

"Hello, Officer Danvers, how are you this fine day?"

"I am doing well miss. However, I do miss the shouts of the newsies, hearing the headlines helped me pass the time," he smiled.

"I hope this strike-business ends soon," Lily replied. She missed the shouts of the newsies; however, she wanted them to win their strike, no matter how long it took.

"As do I, miss," agreed the guard before he stepped in front of her as a short red haired boy raced past her.

"You do not need to shield me from the children."

"From that little devil I do," Danvers replied with a scowl, "He's put a tack on your father's chair once."

"Oh dear," Lily replied. _Good, he earned a pain in the bottom,_ she thought to herself. Then continued up the stairs to the second story. The hallway was empty, but she could hear the sounds of the younger and older children in the 'classroom' of the refuge. The so-called classroom was really a large room with uncomfortable wooden chairs. A guard stood at the front of the room, another beside the door. A strict and hefty woman named Iris taught the children good 'morals and manners.' But any time the children dared whisper to one another or raise their hands to be excused to the bathroom a ruler would be slapped across their knuckles so hard they could barely move their fingers the next day.

She walked quickly past the classroom and knocked on her father's office door.

"You may enter."

Lily opened the door and smiled, "Good afternoon, father."

"Lillian, sit down and shut the door behind you. I don't care to hear the sounds of those meddlesome brats," he snapped.

"Yes, father..." She shut the door behind her and quickly sat, "How is your day-"

Snyder held his hand up, "What have I told you about speaking out of turn?"

Lily went quiet and lowered her face, she clasped her hands together and fear gathered within her. She glanced behind him and at the tiny closet in the corner of his office. Her stomach twisted, she knew that tiny space all too well. Anytime she would anger her father he would stick into the closet. Inside the storage space was spiders, rats, and once she even heard the squeaks of a bat. He would unlock the door and let her out hours later, at times she would have spider bites all over her face, arms, and legs. Once she was bitten by a rat, another time a small black spider had made it's way into her boot and bit her right foot so many times it swelled the point she could not stand on it.

However, since she became a grown woman and did what she was told, she was not shoved into the closet.

Snyder capped and put down his pen a moment later before looking up at her and clasping his hands together, a smile grew on his face, "How was your day?"

"It went well, father....The newsies are rather silent."

"It's this rumor of a newsboy strike," he scoffed, "That will never happen. I like your dress, where did you get it?"

"I went shopping today, father. It was one of the dresses I bought along with my wedding dress. I wish to look my best for Alexander."

"You bought a wedding dress?"

"Yes, it is waiting inside my wardrobe at home. It is most beautiful."

"I see," he nodded, "I have finished my lunch, but the maid will bring yours here in a few minutes. I need to be off....I have business downtown," he commented before he grabbed his black bowler hat from the hat rack and placing it atop his head. He nodded to her and walked out.

Lily raised her eyebrow and waited for her lunch. She knew her father, he would test her by leaving his office or room to see if she would remember what he taught her. When she was certain he was gone after eating her lunch, Lily began looking through his desk drawers. Most drawers were filled with records of each child in the refuge; another drawer was filled with newspapers; and the last drawer, the largest of them all, was locked. She frowned and tugged at it once again to make sure it was locked and not stuck.

Lily paused and walked to the door, she opened it just enough to see out and glanced around the hallway; it was empty besides for the two guards standing at each end of the hall. She clicked the door shut and walked back to the drawer and grabbed the bobby pin from her hair. The bun uncoiled and her hair fell around her shoulders, she pushed it behind her shoulder and knelt down and picked the lock.

She was helping a newsboy escape from the refuge a year ago, he called himself 'Brooklyn' and he picked the lock to the entrance's doors. She had watched his every movement, then tried it when she returned home. It took weeks for her to quickly and successfully pick a lock.

Lily pulled open the drawer and smiled, "Bingo."

-------------------------

Lucinda pulled her cap back onto her head and panted, her heart pounded, and excitement coursed through her. Jack, David, and Boots had returned from Brooklyn with Spot's answer: he would not join in or agree to the strike until the Manhattan Newsies proved to him they were serious. The newsies had been close to giving up, Jack looked as if he were about to strangle someone (until disappointment won over). Then David had begun to sing, which led the others to join in and begin dancing. Now that spirits were high all the newsies (minus Skittery) were ready for the strike.

When they arrived at the distribution center the beginning of the strike was rather civilized, until Skitts climbed down the ramp with an armful of papers. Minutes later everything was chaos: newspapers were being torn and shred; a cart was being pushed over; and fruit was being thrown. She grabbed hold of a tomato and watched the Distribution office's door bang open and smirked; she threw the tomato and laughed when it landed on Morris's face.

The older Delancey turned towards her with a sneer. Lucinda wasn't overly concerned, her employer (her father's best friend) had taught her how to fight. He taught all of his detectives how to fight.

"Dat was great!" Jack laughed as he walked over to her, he grabbed hold of a handful of newspapers and ripped them into shreds.

"Too bad we'se can't go off rippin' up Weasel, eh?" She questioned, trying to form her accent into a Manhattan-Irish-ish accent. The fact that it sounded slightly more Irish than Manhattan-ish helped to collaborate her 'history' better. Then, moments later loud piercing whistles sounded, David was behind Jack a heart beat later tugging at his shoulder and pointing at the police and shouting.

"Cheese it! It's da bulls!" Jack shouted a moment later. All the newsies, including Pretty, ran off. She glanced behind her and guilt gathered when she saw the Delanceys dragging Crutchy off. Great. Another innocent victim went to the spider's web. When Lucinda met with Lillian tonight she would be sure to ask her to keep an eye on the tall handicapped boy. He was such a sweetheart and he'd never do anything to harm anyone.

It was then she made a promise to herself: She'd let nothing get in the way of her mission of rescuing Crutchy and the other victims of Warden Snyder's. As she ran down the street she thought to herself: _You had better keep your end of our deal, Lillian!_

Lucinda was a good judge of character, and from what she had seen Lillian was all too ready to help put her father behind bars.

-------------------------------------

Patrick Sullivan scowled and crossed his arms as he watched the large group of newsies run past. He only cared for one of those brats: his son. His chest swelled with pride at seeing his boy was the leader of the unruly group of kids. That boy had potential, now only if he could draw it out of him.

He stepped further into the alley way when Lucinda ran past, a cruel smirked stretched across his thin lips and his beady eyes narrowed. Lucinda may have had everyone convinced she was a newsgirl named 'Pretty,' but he knew who she was. He also knew there was nothing 'pretty' about her. She was friends with Arthur Rascott, one of the head Pinkerton Detectives for the Manhatan area. The man who had thrown him in jail and stole his son from him. He would pay, so would his little girly-detective, along with anyone else who got in his way.

He turned to walk away when he caught his reflection in a glass bottle: his face was long and narrow; his nose crooked from being broken in many prison fights; he trimmed his hair so it revealed the shape of his skull, making his appearance even more frightening. A large and jagged scar went down the side of his face and ended on his left shoulder. The prison docs had said it was a miracle he had survived. Oh yeah, it was a miracle alright, since he had done the damage to himself and knew just how hard and far to cut.

He paused and turned to watch Lucinda again, she was nearly out of his eye sight. Earlier she had visited the home of Warden Snyder. The girl she had talked too was freckle faced and was rather brave to try to put her own father behind bars; that took guts. Whether she had guts or not, he didn't want her around his son. His son had to have no distractions. When he got his Francis back they'd both travel out west together (which Francis seemed intent on doing, anyway) and join Patrick's newly acquired friends. A small group of outlaws who had once been rumored to be part of the James Gang. Whether the rumor was true or not, he didn't give a damn. The men would serve their purpose.

------------------------------

Lillian had looked through every file in the drawer. Every piece of paper had incriminating evidence written upon it: the amount the state of New York had given him for each child that came into the refuge. And the amount of money he took for himself. Only a tiny portion was left over for the guards' pay, and an even tinier portion for the occupants of the refuge.

But it was one folder that had gotten her attention. It was white and had her mother's name scrawled on the outside of it.

Lily opened the folder and stared in shock at the photographs of her mother and father; a few of her sister and herself. The picture that caught her attention the most was the one of her father when he was younger standing behind her mother holding a baby in their arms. She turned the picture around: Daniel and Emmaline Snyder with Amanda Hearst.

Her eyebrows rose and scrunched together. Who in the world was Amanda Heast? She had no idea if the newspaper giant had children or not. She flipped the picture again and stared at it closer. Her father was younger and actually quite handsome. His hair was longer than it was now, though not by much, and it appeared to be much more stubborn since he had a cow lick. On his face was a shy and somewhat goofy smile.

Her attention focused on her mother, she felt her heart pang in sadness. How she missed her darling and loving mother so. She forced herself to get her emotions under control, she had a job to do. Her mother was smiling in the picture, it was the closed lip small and sweet smile she had always given. Her face was round and narrowed towards her chin. Her hair was in a tight bun at the base of her neck.

Lily's attention then focused on the baby. The baby was in her father's arms; she was probably a few months old judging by her hair and height. Lily paused and opened the top drawer of her father's desk and grabbed his magnifying glass, she held it over the baby's face and froze. The baby's face was filled with freckles, and her face was covered in them! Could she be...? No! She mustn't think of such nonsense, she was Lillian Snyder. Warden Daniel Snyder was her father.

She reluctantly put the picture back into the folder and closed it, then grabbed it and prepared to put it back when an old yellowed piece of paper slipped out. She frowned and carefully picked it up, her heart skipped a beat. The paper had her mother's name on it.

She quickly read it, her heart stopped for a moment. She read it again in disbelief, the words still remained the same proving she hadn't read it wrong.

_Snyder, I know you assisted the Pinkerton Detectives in taking my life and my boy from me. Know that when the time comes, I will return for my boy. Then for you. We'll see how you like your life taken from you. Perhaps I should take one of your darling daughters from you as well? If you are still searching for your wife's murderer.....Know that you're reading the note he wrote._

_~You Know Who~_

Under the note Lily recognized her father's handwriting with the name: _Patrick Sullivan_ scrawled under it. Lily swallowed, her father had always told her and Grace their mother died of illness. Her stomach churned with disgust, fear, shock, and grief. Her mother had been murdered by Francis Sullivan's father. Now she understood why her father wanted Francis Sullivan behind bars so badly. He wanted a bargaining chip to use again Patrick Sullivan.

But, it was no excuse for hunting the poor boy (he didn't seem to be involved in her mother's murder). And it did not excuse her father's treatment of the children in the refuge, nor his treatment towards herself and Grace.

She shoved the note back into the folder and looked at the one piece of paper she would take with her to give to Lucinda. The notepad her father wrote on had the imprints of his last information, she had carefully torn the piece of paper out and used the side of a pencil to reveal the writing. She folded it and tucked it into her skirt's pocket before shutting the desk's drawer and using her bobby pin to lock it once again. She stood and hurried out of her father's office. On her way out of the gates she saw one of the newsboys she had seen the previous day being drug into the refuge. He was kicking and struggling.

"Oscar, please, let him go!"

The younger Delancey turned, "No can do! He helped da oddas wreck da Distribution Centah, Crutchy heah is a criminal. An' criminals get punishment," he snarled before the two brothers, along with the struggling newsie, walked through the gates together never looking back.

Lily walked away and vowed she would put her father behind bars. For a moment she found herself wishing the state would make a woman the warden of the refuge. But she knew that would never happen. She was halfway home when she passed a group of newsies heading towards Tibby's, and one of them was Jack Kelly. She looked over at him and smiled, he didn't appear to notice her. Instead he was talking to a tall girl with light brown hair. She was clutching a pink shawl and her eyes were sparkling.

Lily felt a pang of jealousy travel through her. She then decided to follow Lucinda's rule: Not to fall in love. Especially not with a boy who didn't know she existed. She had a job to do.

--------------------------

Jack glanced up over Sarah's head and spotted Lillian Snyder, she was turning and walking away from him.

"Jack?"

"Huh?"

"I was asking about the menu," Sarah smiled as she gave a smile and batted her eyelashes.

"Oh yeah, dat....Uh yeah...Deys got real good food, uh.....Too much ta remembah, it's on da chalkboard inside." He stammered as he held restaurant's door open for him, she giggled as she glanced at him and walked in. The hair on the back of his neck began to rise, someone was watching him. He turned but found himself facing an empty street.


	4. Patricks Plan & Arthur & Amanda Hearst

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I do not own the Pinkerton Detective Agency. I own Lucinda AKA Pretty, Amanda Hearst, Patrick Sullivan, and Arthur MacTough.**_

_**(A/N: Thanks for the great review, QueenOfNewYork1234! :D)**_

The quiet night air was pierced only by the sounds of buzzing and chirping crickets; and by the loud thumps each time the wooden wheel of the carriage passed over a broken or missing cobblestone in the road.

"The information you discovered is excellent. If your father every destroys evidence we shall always have concrete proof of his misdeeds. Very well, indeed, Lillian, very well done." Lucinda beamed as she stared at the paper, "Might I ask how you learned to pick a lock and this pencil trick?"

"I watched a newsboy pick a lock once, I watched his hand and wrist movements. Then, when my father left the house each day I would practice on my wardrobe's lock. Then on my door lock, until I became proficient and was able to pick the front door's lock, which is similar to a desk lock." Lily smiled, "I am glad I was able to provide such valuable information....May I ask how much further we shall be traveling?"

"Only a few minutes more," Lucinda replied, "You see we must take precautions. My employer used to work for our main branch in Brooklyn. He saw how greedy his employers had become and disagreed with strike breaking. He says if 95-99 percent of workers in a company or factory strike, then there is a problem in need of immediate addressing. He broke away from the main office and created his own branch, which deals with putting criminals, such as your father, behind bars. The only work we do not involve ourselves in are divorce cases."

"It's been nearly an hour, why so far away?" Lily was curious to know why her employer insisted on living so far from the city.

"Well, the employer he worked for was a vile and greedy excuse of a man. When he left, he was rather surprised that half of the Pinkerton Detective Agency left with him. Because of that his former employer is always looking for him. He moves around constantly because of this, and only his most trusted employees know his location."

"Will we get in trouble with him?"

"Oh no," Lucinda replied with a shake of her head, "None at all. You see my employer's employer, I know this is confusing but I cannot give you his name just yet, can do nothing about people quitting or changing jobs. But he can penalize my employer for starting the movement amongst his detectives."

"I see," Lily looked out the window and leaned closer to the glass. She had never been so far from Manhattan before. There were still houses and buildings. But these were old and dilapidated. They looked as if they were holding their breaths as they waited for their former occupants to return.

"I take you have never seen this part of New York."

"No...I thought...I thought all of the buildings and houses were occupied...I had no idea."

"Oh, these are occupied as well by people who have been evicted from their homes. They live here because there is nowhere else for them to go."  
"Do you know how many people there are?"

Lucinda shrugged, "That I do not. Though I feel terrible for them. However, like the newsies, they do not appreciate charity. Their pride controls their actions. I wish they'd realize that there are times when one's pride must be set aside for reason and common sense."

"I fully agree," Lily replied before the carriage turned into a long road that was nothing but dirt and grass. For a moment she wondered if she was in the west. The thought of the west made her mind trail back to Cowboy Jack Kelly, Francis Sullivan, or whatever he liked being called. His sparkling blue eyes, handsome smile, and his accent. She had heard all dialects of a New York Accent, Manhattan, Little Italy, Brooklyn...But something about Jack's was different...Special and just as attractive as he was.

"Well then, we're almost here."

"I have one thing to ask."

"Of course."

"Does the name Amanda Hearst mean anything to you?"

------------------------------------

Jack's hands were shoved into his pockets as he stared into the stars. Thoughts raced through his mind: the strike, how to convince Spot and the rest of the newsies to join, and strangely enough Lillian Snyder. With all the things going on with his life now he thought he would have been able to block the warden's daughter out of his thoughts completely. Obviously his mind hadn't gotten the headline that he didn't want to think of the girl he didn't know any longer. If he wanted to think of any girl it should have been Sarah: there was no connection to Snyder, no danger, and she was beautiful and sweet. Not very smart....But beggars can't be choosers.

"Hey Jack, youse comin' back in any time soon?" Race asked in annoyance as he looked up at him from the fire escape.

"Yeah, I'se will be up soon, Race," he replied, "Why youse up anyway?"

"Waitin' for youse," he replied, "Aftah all, youse started dis strike. We'se can't have youse fallin' off da roof or nothin', cause we'se don't know what to do."

Jack laughed, "You'd know, if not you'd do what I was doing: Ask da Walking Mouth."

"I'se t'ink I'se would skip out on dat one," Race replied, "He's a good kid....But face it, Jack, somethin's wrong wid him. How can someone not agree ta bettin' on horses?"

Jack smirked, "Not awll people ah in ta gamblin'."

"So what cha thinkin' about?" Race asked as he climbed atop the roof.

"Da strike, how ta convince Spot ta join, and Sarah."

"Sarah? Eh, I dunno 'bout dat one, Jack. Anytime youse see a woman wid red hair youse jump and toin. I'se t'ink youse t'inking about Lillian Snyder."

"So what if I'se am, Race?" Jack turned away a little.

"Nuthin', jist that youse shouldn't ignore heh. She's got more brains dan Sarah Jacobs, still can't believe she asked da waiter why da resteraunt was named Tibby's. I'se t'ought it was common knowledge!" He exclaimed as he scratched his head.

Jack laughed, "He's got enough ads in da papes for it ta be common knowledge..."

"So, what about Lillian attracts youse?"

"Nuthin'."

"So dat's why youse nearly ran Spot's futcha goil ovah yellin 'Lily! Lily!'"

"I'se did not!"

"Well, youse ran ovah ta heh and said, Lily, Lily," Race replied, "Can't blame me for improvin' da truth a lil' bit."

"I'se jist wanna find her and tell heh ta stay away from me."

"Shoah youse do," the other newsboy replied, unconvinced.

"Hey, Race. What do youse t'ink of da strike so far?"

"Well, befoah I'se thought it couldn't be done, but now I'se beginnin' ta have second thoughts. Youse ain't havin' second thoughts ah youse?"

"No," Jack replied, "I just wanna make shoah I'se doin' da right thing."

"Youse ah. Youse know, Spot, he's stubborn. When da time is right, he'll get it t'rough his thick skull dat we'se need ta have a strike. Sides if papes start ta cost too much dan he's outta da 'King of da Newsies' job, and we'se all know he'd lead a strike all of his own den." He laughed.

Jack laughed hard and loud, "Dat's true, his egos so big he'd be his own army."

The two laughed for another minute before starting to cam down, then both started looking at the stars.

"Youse know, I'se have a friend who used ta live out west," Racetrack suddenly exclaimed, "She says da Lakota Indians have a story bout da stars. Dat da stars are all our ancestors dancin' in da heavens watchin' out ovah us."

"Dat's a nice story," Jack replied.

"Yeah," Race replied, "Too bad it ain't true."

Jack shrugged, "Deys say every story starts from somewheah."

"Yeah, dat's true," Race replied with a nod, "Dat's true..."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick Sullivan stared at the empty building, it was nothing fancy but it would accommodate his needs well. All he needed was a place to rest his head at night, a hideout, and a place to take his son before they left. He placed folded his arms behind his head and stared upwards at the ceiling, which was dark in some places and light in the other. He assumed it must have caught fire, since he didn't smell anything it must have happened years ago.

His boy led an interesting life. For a newsboy, he was well connected. Pride swelled in Patrick's chest, his Francis took after him and his mother. His eyes slightly blurred at the thought of his pretty wife, Beth. She was the gunslinger Johnny Ringo's niece. On her 17th birthday (right after their wedding) her uncle was shot and found lying between two roots of a large tree, a single bullet stuck in his head. His lovely Bethy had been so upset that day, she sobbed and mourned for weeks. Her mourning ended when she learned they were pregnant with their son.

Since the moment Francis was born Beth told him all about his great uncle, Johnny Ringo. She told him stories about the West, and especially stories of Santa Fe, New Mexico where she was born and raised. When Francis turned 3 his darling Beth died from Pneumonia. But amazingly, little Francis never forgot her stories.

Even now he remembered them. Patrick had listened to his son singing about his desire to live in Santa Fe the other night. He smiled as he remembered one part he sung, _"For a dreamer nights the only time a day." _Beth always said that. Always.

He sighed and glanced out the window. His son was standing on the roof of his lodging house staring into the stars. A smile etched across Patrick's face, _don't worry son. You'll be free of this damned hell hole you call 'home' sooner than you know._ He knew his son would make an excellent outlaw, which would be good. The skills he had learned in New York he would need out west. A smirk curved across his face as he remembered the head of the newspaper he had read in the small town of Prosperity Springs, Arizona. _German Duke To Visit Out West: Brings Collection of Jewels and other Rare Gems..._

"Soon son, soon you can go to Santa Fe and have your own damned ranch if you want," he whispered then snickered, "Though it won't be yours for too long." He loved his son, however he loved money more. If it came between the gems and Francis, he'd choose the money. A man had to draw the line somewhere, after all.

--------------------------------------------------

Lucinda was pleased with the meeting between her employer, Mr. Arthur MacTough and Lillian. For the first few minutes Lily was shy and spoke not a word. Then, gradually, she left her shell and was comfortable with talking to the gray haired Scottish detective.

"Lucinda tells me you will make a great asset to this branch of the Pinkerton Detective Agency," Arthur smiled, his blue eyes twinkling.

"I hope I will, sir," Lily replied and kept her hands clasped on her lap.

"Seeing a few of the hidden talents you have only makes me more convinced that Lucinda was right to come to you for help. Now, may I ask if you have overheard any conversations with the warden and a guard?"

Lucinda looked over at Lily, her pupils faced the ceiling as she thought about any conversations she could have heard.

"Only one, sir, but it was a long time ago."

"Do you remember anything?" Arthur questioned.

Lucinda reached into a drawer and took out a notepad and pencil. If Lily remembered any details she would document them before she forgot.

"I remember I was around 14 or so. My father was arguing with someone in the living room. I only remember hearing him yelling at a man that he promised to get him a job as warden of the refuge. Then, the other man agreed that he had made that promise and he would see to it the promise was fulfilled."

Lucinda jotted down the information, "Any exact words?"

Lily paused, "Yes....There was one.....It unnerved me, which is the only reason why I can recall it. 'When the girl gets of proper age she is to be given to my son as a gift.'....I believe my father was talking to Alexander's father that day."

"Do you know Alexander's father's name?"

"No, I'm sorry."

"That's quite alright, m'dear," Arthur gave a kind smile.

"That's so sad that your father would exchange you for a job," Lucinda said softly. "I'm so terribly sorry, Lily."

"I am not sorry," Lily replied, "If he had not I never would have met you."

"True," Lucinda smiled, "Very true..." She glanced away and recalled Lily's question back in the carriage _'Does the name Amanda Hearst mean anything to you?'_ Oh yes, that name meant everything to her. A few minutes later Lily walked out to the carriage and Lucinda stood to follow.

"Lucinda, stop."

She turned, "Yes, Arthur?"

"Sit down," he commented as he placed the tip of his pipe between his lips, "You were pale when you walked in and looked as if you had seen a ghost. The look has returned to you, might I ask what is the matter?"

Lucinda paused, "Lillian found a picture of her parents holding me as an infant."

"I see....Do you wish to still be Amanda Hearst?"

"No. Never again," she replied with a shake of her head.

"Then continue being Lucinda. That picture's past died along with Amanda, you know that," he said softly.

She nodded, "I know. Good night, Arthur. I shall return here-"

"No, I will be moving to another residence, in the city."

She looked up in astonishment, "You cannot! Your employer-"

Arthur calmly held up his hand, "My employer will be busy attempting to break the newsie strike. We have an important job, Lucinda. To put Warden Snyder behind bars before he does more damage."

Lucinda nodded.

"Lucinda."

"Yes, Arthur?" She turned to face him once again.

"I loved your mother dearly, and I still do. I am so sorry that..." he paused.

"My mother did not want me," she replied softly with a shrug, "I never knew her, it has very little effect on me. I know that you love me and want me as a daughter, which is all I need to know."

"I am just so sorry that I did not learn sooner of your whereabouts," he frowned.

"From what I remember Mrs. Snyder was very kind, and back then so was the warden."

"How time changes people..." Her father mused.

Lucinda silently agreed and walked out of the house. She looked at the carriage, Lily's head was resting against a window. It appeared she had fallen asleep, which was good. Tomorrow would be a busy day for Pretty and for Lily.

Lucinda glanced at Lily and decided she would wake her when they were halfway back to Manhattan and tell her she needed her help once again. Lily was going to have to spend a day with her father. They needed more evidence to build a strong case against Warden Snyder.


	5. A Day with the Warden & Murder!

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Lillian 'Lily' Snyder, Lucinda 'Pretty', and Patrick Sullivan. I also own Arthur.**

_**(A/N: This hairstyle described in this chapter is called the "Braided Chignon". You can find it in the Klutz Book "Hair: A Book of Braiding and Styling." :) )**_

"Spend the day with me?"

"Please, father, we haven't much time left with one another before Alexander and I wed," Lily replied as she clasped her hands at her waist. Throughout the entire conversation she thought of every sad moment she had lived through. In result her eyes shined with evidence of gathering tears, and her mouth was down turned.

Snyder paused, then shook his head, "This is childish."

"No, father....It is sadness. I will not be seeing you as much as I do now, seeing Alexander and I shall be moving."

"Pardon?"

"We are moving."

Lily watched her father's face turn from annoyed to perplexed. From his look, she gathered her fiance had not told his future father-in-law that the day he married her they would be leave the state. He wanted to start the Busby Times in Arizona. There was a large town out west that seemed to have promise into growing into a large city...She continued forgetting the name but she was almost certain it was called Phoenix.

"Mr. Busby mentioned nothing of this move to me," Snyder replied, "When did you both speak about this....Proposition?"

"This morning on the telephone, he said he had already discussed the matter with you."

"No...He did not," Snyder replied, "In this case, yes, you may spend the day with me."

"Alexander wishes to come by at lunch and - "

"He cannot see you until tonight after I speak with him," her father replied with a curt nod, "Finish getting decent than we shall go."

"Yes, father," Lily replied before she returned to her bedroom. She shut and locked the door after him and smiled when she faced Madeline, "How was I?"

"I believed you were truly upset for a moment," the detective replied, "Ye were beginnin' to make my heart bleed."

"I wasn't _that_ good."

"Oh yes, indeed you were Lillian. You shall be makin' a fine detective, fine. Now I must return to m' 'maid' duties, oh Lud! Will I ever be grateful when this despicable job has ended. Humph, it is a woman's place to clean, says James. Well, after all this is over will 'e learn what a foine British woman like meself is made of! I'll show 'im a thing or two, I will!"

Lily watched Madeline walk to the door and return to her normal slouch and return to her meek behavior. Her British accent faded away in the wind when she walked out and yelled for James to get the horses ready.

Lily shut the door and dressed in a favorite light blue dress with embroidered crocheted pansies and leaves all over it. The dress has a triangular collar made of frilly lace, it stopped an inch after her collar bone. The torso of the gown clung tightly to her until the gown started. Unlike most of her dresses which required hoops, this one required nothing more than her chemise. It was starched so it stood up at the hips as it should. The skirt ended at her ankles where the tops of her pearly white boots were seen.

Madeline came in a moment later and separated her hair into three different braids. Then separated her hair at the nape of her neck and slipped the braids through, after this she tucked the tails into the space where Lily's braids had been flipped through and slipped a bobby in to draw the braids close together. After this she used a pearl barrette to keep the braids in place.

"Thank you, Madeline," Lily smiled as she slipped on her white gloves and grabbed hold of her light blue parasol with the white lace edgings.

"Of course, Miss Snyder," she replied with a nod as the butler walked in.

"Your father awaits...Impatiently, in the coach, Miss," he exclaimed before turning his face away and giving a powerful sneeze. His hair piece slid off the top of his head and down his face, until it stopped over his nose.

Lily had to quickly a place a hand over her mouth to muffle her giggles as she watched the flustered and blushing butler/chauffeur grab hold of his hair piece. He placed it atop his head and his bulb like nose stuck out like a sore thumb, it was red and swollen.

"My apologies, Miss."

"None are necessary, and I will not speak of this to anyone," Lily assured.

"Oh thank you, kindly, miss!" The butler exclaimed before he rushed outside before he embarrassed him once again with another powerful sneeze.

"I warned him not to tell me that cooking and cleaning are woman's job," Madeline exclaimed when James exited the front door.

"What did you do?"

"Oh, nothin' but accidentally 'sneeze' some pepper in front o' his nose. He'll live," she beamed with satisfaction and walked Lily to the door, "Now ye remember what to look for?"

"Yes, a brown envelope with cash inside from Mr. Pulitzer. Might I inquire what this transaction is for?"

"I was not to tell ye, but seein' he is your father. The money is from Mr. Pulitzer to your father to find the leader of the strike and, excuse m' language, shut him up. He is to arrest the newsboy in charge and bring him to Mr. Pulitzer, after this he will get paid the rest. All ye need to do is tell our 'eyes' where ta look and we'll 'andle it from there."

Lily nodded, "May I ask who your 'eyes' are in the refuge, besides me?"

"I'm sorry m'dear, but I can't go givin' that information until this is all said an' done. Ye understand, don't ye?" Madeline questioned with her eyebrows arched.

"I do," Lily replied before stepping out the front door and opening her parasol.

"And Lily!"

"Yes?"

"You forgot your hat, miss," Madeline handed Lily her light blue hat with feathers and blue silk roses sewn around the brim.

"Thank you, Madeline," Lily smiled and walked towards her father's carriage. It was going to be a long day.

------------------------------------

Patrick Sullivan's chest swelled with pride as he watched his son lead his small band of newsboy through the gates of the World Distribution Center. Pinkerton Detectives along with other muscle attacked the newsies and trapped them. However his son and his boys never gave up, minutes later more newsies appeared along the rooftops. When a boy shorter than his son appeared with a slingshot the newsies erupted in shouts 'Brooklyn!' and 'It's Brooklyn!'

The trap ended minutes later, with Brooklyn's help the goons were escaping and being pushed back behind two large wooden gates. As the goons were retreating 'Brooklyn' opened the iron gates and allowed another large group of newsboys in.

After their photograph was taken they rushed off to a nearby restaurant called Tibby's. Patrick didn't bother to follow them. He was impressed with his son's fighting skills. He would be tough enough to help steal the duke's jewels. He reached into his trouser pocket and took hold of his pocket watch and glanced at the date window. Only 15 days until the Duke arrived. He was going to have to grab his son soon. He thought for a moment and decided. He would take his son in two days and then return out west with him.

He would make sure his son knew not to become greedy, because his old man cherished wealth more than human life. If Francis attempted to escape, Patrick would kill him after the job was finished.

But now he had more pressing matters to attend too. He watched 'Pretty' glance around the street before she took off running in another direction.

"That's it, Lucinda," he said softly and mockingly, "Lead me to Arthur, like a good little detective."

---------------------------------------

Lily couldn't believe the day was already half over. The morning was slow and boring: her father did paperwork and paid bills (surprisingly), then lectured the children about speaking to his daughter in any inappropriate language. He then 'taught' a class about behavior in the real world. When Crutchy dared to laugh he slapped the poor boy upside the head and placed him on "servant duty."

Servant duty meant Crutchy would from now on be cooking and cleaning for the Warden and Lily. Now it was lunch time and her father had excused himself to go into a private room and call Alexander.

When he left the room, Lily took advantage of the opportune moment and squatted in front of the locked drawer. She picked the lock once again and blushed with the awareness of how unlady like her stance currently was. She grabbed hold of the envelope and coughed loudly and cleared her throat. She quickly left the room and walked into the Ladies' Washroom. She returned five minutes later and found the envelope sealed on the desk. She wondered if the 'eyes' had seen it.

She turned when someone tapped on the frosted glass in her father's office's door. Crutchy stood on the other side with a large grin on his face and a thumbs up.

"Deys got da picturahs," he whispered after opening the door.

"Thank you, Crutchy."

"Youse welcome, I'se hope youse will come every day. Believe it or not, 'e's a lot nicah when youse ah around."

"Do not tell him that," Lily frowned.

"Nevah! Dat would be a death sentence fer awll of us!" He exclaimed and shut the door. Lily placed the envelope back into the drawer, shut it and locked it. She returned to her seat and had enough time to smooth out her skirt when her father walked in.

"Alexander and I will be having a long discussion tonight," her father remarked.

"Please do not be angry with him, father. He is full of ambition, he cannot help that he is young, nor can I."

Snyder looked up at her and shook his head, "You've grown into a beautiful and adult woman so quickly, Lillian. Especially during these last few days. Are you certain there is nothing you wish to discuss with me about this....Sudden change?"  
"I am sure, father. I wish to be a perfect wife to Alexander. I....I fear he may not love me if I do not."

"Nonsense," her father scoffed, "You are as lovely as your mother, with her mind and her looks. It would be impossible for him not to love you. Go on and eat your lunch."

"Yes father."

------------------------------------------

When Lucinda was made aware of Arthur's whereabouts she left as soon as the brawl had ended. She had excluded herself from the photograph, not wishing to have evidence that could help any convict find her.

Her feet skidded as she slowed down in front of the small apartment building that was a block away from newspaper row, or as some called it Newspaper Square, or Newsie Square. She walked calmly into the lobby and nodded to the attendant and climbed the stairs to the third story. Then knocked on room door 302.

"Only in the land of Spain, you will find a dog named Payne," she said softly. The door opened a moment later. She walked in and turned as her father shut the door.

"How are you, Arthur?"

"I'm doing well," he replied.

Lucinda paused, her father's voice had a Scottish accent. The man who had spoken had a voice that was deep, gravelly, with an accent somewhere between Manhattan and Western.

"Who are you?"

The man turned, the long scar down the side of his face was recognizable. Patrick Sullivan. Arthur had told her stories of his first nemesis.

"W...What are you doing here?" She backed slowly and played the role of a damsel in distress.

"Just here to see daddy," he replied with an open toothed smile. Lucinda looked away in disgust. The man's teeth were an unhealthy yellow shade and his breath stunk.

"Leave my father be," she whispered.

"Oh, I will, after I kill you. After all, in my world, it's an eye for an 'eye'. Get it! An eye for an 'eye!'" He howled in laughter at his own joke. Lucinda looked around and found her father sitting atop a counter, he was bruised and bleeding. His lower lip had been busted open, both his eyes sported shiners. He coughed and Lucinda was horrified when a small splatter of blood landed on the tile floor of the kitchen. Arthur was bleeding internally! Oh, God, no!

She spun in time to miss a bullet whiz past her. She screamed and ran into another room, then shut the door. she had to find a way to rescue herself and her father. But how? She looked about the small and empty bedroom, there was nothing of use. Then from the corner of her eye she saw a small black spider weaving its web. She paled, how she hated spiders, bugs, and rodents!

However, she was going to have to get over her and quickly. She spider was going to save her life.

-------------------------------

"Open the door, Lucy," Patrick exclaimed in a sing-song tone of voice as he shook the door knob.

"Get...The....Hell...Away...From....Her..." Arthur coughed from across the room.

"Oh, I'll walk away when she's nothing more than a corpse," Patrick shrugged, "Open this door Lucinda, I won't hurt you! I promise." Annoyance built itself into his body as he tugged the doorknob. He was going to have to find the damned ax and force her out of the room. Why couldn't she just be agreeable and handle her death with dignity? It would be so much _simpler_ that way!

"Open the damned door, girl!" he shouted.

----------------------------

Lucinda opened the door open quickly, causing the man behind it to yelp in pain. She darted in front of him and threw the spider on his shirt and ran towards her father.

"Go!" Arthur shouted, "Don't look about, go!"

"But father, he'll kill-"

"I'm dying anyway, go! Lucinda, everything you will need is with your sister!"

Lucinda ran out of the apartment and made certain to scream 'murderer,' at the top of her lungs. People began opening the doors of their apartments and peeking towards her in curiosity while young boys were sent to fetch the police.

She continued her run and her father's words continued echoing around her head: _Everything you need is with your sister!_ She knew where to look. The newsie cemetery in Bronx. Her younger sister had run away when Lucinda was ten. They found her selling papers on a street corner. One month later they were invited to her funeral after the Delancey Brothers had beaten her to a pulp for daring to steal one apple from a merchant in the marketplace. She had never forgiven those two fiends, however Patrick Sullivan and Warden Snyder demanded all her attention at the moment.

She rushed into the Manhattan Newsies Lodging House and barely heard Kloppman's surprised question on her well being. She had not a chance to answer. Her heart raced, if Patrick knew of her, then he knew where his son was, and he knew all about Lillian. He'd murder Lillian just to torment Snyder. Lucinda would not allow that to happen to another innocent person, she wouldn't! Especially a young woman, who she was beginning to call friend.

Lucinda stopped in front of her bunk as her mind slightly cleared. It hit her that she was doing exactly what Patrick wanted her too: She had led him to Arthur; now she would be leading him to Lily; and she gathered he already knew of his sons whereabouts. She shut her eyes and thought of her father. She knew what he'd want her to do: carry on her work as Pretty, stay in crowds, and when it was time to speak with Lillian again she'd disguise herself. She smirked, she knew a disguise she could dress in. One that even Arthur wouldn't have recognized her in.

She paused and twirled her hair and placed her cap back over it, she was going to have to get to Tibby's and fast. But first of all, she needed to pass a note to Madeline to give to Lily for her. She was going to need her help getting the needed information from her sister's grave.

--------------------------------

"Murder! Murder!"

Jack turned when a young newsie around 6 or 7 rushed in.

"What happened, Tumblah?" He questioned.

Tumbler's eyes were huge, "Someone murdered that old man who moved inta that fancy apartment house last night."

Jack stared wide eyed, "Who was he?"

"Don't know," the boy shrugged, "What I'se do know is da who did it, his last name is Sullivan."

Jack paled and he felt his heart stop. His father had returned to New York.

"Jack? What is it?" Blink questioned.

"Nuthin'," Jack grumbled before walking towards the washroom in back of Tibby's. He leaned over the sink and splashed water onto his face. He heard the door shut and the loud clunk of the lock. He dried his face and glanced over at Spot.

"Dat ain't nothin', Jacky-boy," the Brooklyn leader commented and crossed his arms, "What's goin' on?"

"Nuthin," Jack snapped.

"Dere's somethin'. Is it youse old man?"

"How'd youse guess?"

"Cause dats da look youse got when we foist met 4 yeahs ago and youse fadda passed. I'se won't tell no one, dough I'se will help ya be on da look out for him."

"T'anks, Spot," Jack replied, relieved that his best friend knew his secret after all, "How long have ya known?"

"About youse fadda or youse real name?"  
"Both."

"Knew about youse fadda when I'se foist met ya. Youse were an open book back den, still kinda ah," he smirked, "I'se found out about youse real name from one of me little boids. Youse gonna be alright? Want some of my me boys ta stay in Manhattan?"

"Naw, if 'e tries anythin' me and me newsies will take care ah him."

"Alright, but I'se gonna tell me newsies ta be on da look out foah him," Spot replied as he unlocked the door, "Oh, and what's dis I'se heah about youse fallin' for Snyder's daughter?"

Jack stood up so fast the top of his head hit the towel rack. He winced, "Where did ya hear dat?"  
"Every Manhattan Newsie is talkin' bout it. Now where is dat newsgoil of youse, Pretty?"

"I'se thought she was heah!"

"She ain't," Spot replied.

"If she ain't back by da time we'se leave we'se go lookin for her."

Spot nodded, "Agreed."


	6. The Box & Lucinda's half true past

**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Patrick Sullivan, Lillian aka Lily, Lucinda AKA Pretty AKA Amanda, and Arthur. Sheriff belongs to Lilyanatos. The Artful Dodger belongs to Charles Dickons. The New York-ified Dodger belongs to Lilyanatos. The Quote "If you were any blinder, you'd run into a wall" was said originally by Buck in the Magnificent Seven TV Show.**

**(A/N: Lucinda will be revealing her true identity and her true past to Lily in the next chapter. :) )**

Lucinda sniffled and let out a choked sob. Her eyes were red from crying; her cheeks wet and shiny from tears; and the pain in her heart was not physical -- but hurt just as much, if not more.

"Lucinda...What happened?" Lillian asked softly. Lucinda was vaguely aware of the question, or the other girl gently wiping her tears away with a white handkerchief.

"Arthur....Francis Sullivan's father....He...He killed....He killed my father..."

"Wh...What? Who....Who is your father, Lucinda?"

The detective came to the realization she was blurting out everything to a child of 17 who was not yet an official detective.

"My father was a good man, is all," she forced herself to sit straight and to square her shoulders. However the show of bravado did nothing to impress the young girl in front of her. She blinked in confusion, whenever she made herself straighten and push her emotions aside many simply did the same. Instead, Lillian crossed her arms and lowered her head slightly. The look she was giving reminded Lucinda of the way her mother would stare at her when she was disbelieving; it also reminded her of the Brooklyn Newsboy Leader, Spot Conlon.

"How is it you are only 17 but are as mature as a grown woman?" Lucinda sniffled, "You were not this way when we first met."

"I had to grow up," Lily shrugged, "Everyone, including yourself, told me so. I finally agreed, besides I want my father behind bars where he can do no harm....The way he treated those poor boys at the refuge yesterday....It was terrible!"

Lucinda paused, "Arthur was my father."

"I know."

The older woman looked at Lily in surprise, "How?"

"It was not _that_ hard to figure out. You both have....Had..." She paused when Lucinda winced, "I'm sorry...You both have the same eye color."

"Had..." Lucinda whispered, "Now I despise that word." She looked at Lillian's bedroom door.

"My father never returns home until the early morning hours. However, since the strike he's not home much....Which is alright with me."

"He could be standing on the other side of the door," Lucinda replied.

"No, we'd notice if he was. His breathing is very heavy when he is attempting to be sneaky."

"Ah, I see." She gazed over at the costume she had been wearing when she knocked on Lillian's front door. A black gown, hat and veil, and a large damp handkerchief. She had wrapped a rosary around her wrist, and wore a large St. Mary pendant on a long chain. The disguise had worked out perfectly, even Lily had not recognized her.

"I....I've come here in need of your help," Lucinda finally admitted.

"Of course, I'll do all I can to help you..."

"Patrick Sullivan, Francis...Jack's father, has been following Jack and I around for sometime now. I didn't become aware of this until yesterday afternoon," her breath caught in her throat, "Before I escaped my father requested that I....Retrieve certain and important information for him. But seeing that Patrick is following me, when I am not in a good disguise, I could not possibly retrieve it. Would you? You must not tell anyone where you are going or what your business is."

"Of course, just tell me where it is. I will not tell anyone my true reasons."

Lucinda nodded, "I am counting on you.....You....Do not believe in ghosts, do you?"

--------------------------------

How had she let herself be talked into this? Oh yes, Lucinda's father was murdered and Jack's father was the culprit. Lily pulled her shawl closer around her, Jack....She had seen him coming out of Tibby's as she was passing by. She thought about saying hello to the handsome newsboy, but recalled the brown haired girl and decided against the greeting. Which was good, since he ignored her very existence when he brushed by her.

His actions had spoken louder than words: Stay away from me. Don't look at me. Don't talk to me. Just stay away.

It had broken her heart and during the entire walk to Bronx she had fought back tears of hurt. Then she decided if that was the way he wanted it, then that was just fine. He had no idea what he was missing out on. Also, she figured, she had an important duty and after it was finished she would have an important job. Heartbreak could not interfere when she had to focus on pretending to be someone else, then and now.

She glanced down at her costume, which was really an old pair of her older sister's clothing. An ankle length light brown skirt, old and scuffed boots, a blouse with stains all over it and a light blue shawl with small holes from moths eating it. Lucinda had done her hair so it looked frayed and hassled as if she had been working in a factory all day.

'Now remember, when someone talks to you, speak with a Manhattan accent. No proper English!' Lucinda had said before Lily took her leave.

Lily had been so lost in thought she nearly fell head over heels to the ground. After stumbling and regaining her balance she glanced down at the grand. Her heart almost stopped for a moment. She had tripped over a tombstone. But it wasn't any tombstone. 'Amanda Hearst.' Lucinda's sister's name was Amanda.

Lily looked around, high and low. Everything seemed silent. She gazed over to the far left, the Bronx Lodging House seemed quiet, except for a light in the third story upper right hand corner. Lucinda had told her not to worry about that. It was the Bronx Leaders' personal bunkroom; her name was Sheriff. Half the time she wasn't even there. Lately she was helping a sick friend in Queens.

Lillian took a deep breath before kneeling down and shoving her hands into the moist earth. She dug through the ground and pushed her finishing school's training behind her. As long as she didn't run into any corpses, she would be alright. Lucinda had told her to dig around the area of the tombstone. She grabbed handfuls of dirt and placed it into a pile beside her. When she came up with a handful of dirt and earth worms she bit back a cry of terror. She hated bugs!

She threw the dirt into the rest of the pile, after almost an hour of digging her fingernails scraped something hard and wooden. _Please God do not let that be Amanda's coffin! _The thought made shivers run up and down her spine. She grabbed hold of the lantern and lowered it into the hole. A small wooden box, barely larger than a book, stared back at her. In capital letters that seemed to be hastily carved into the top was the name _"Amanda."_

Lily grabbed hold of the box and pulled it to the surface. She shrugged her shawl off and laid the box in middle of it, then wrapped the tough but soft fabric around it. She stood and kicked the dirt back into the hole before walking and stomping over the area with her feet to pack in the dirt once again. She stooped down and grabbed handfuls of grass she had plucked from the soil and laid it atop the dirt. Then did the same with fallen leaves from a nearby tree. She grabbed hold of the box and turned to leave and gasped in surprise.

A tall boy wearing a gray top hat stood behind her. He was leaning against the tall iron fence that surrounded the cemetery. His blue jacket was tattered and torn in some places; his corduroy trousers were almost too large for him; his green suspenders held the pants up; and his boots were scuffed and seemed ready to fall apart. His face was heart shaped, his eyes large and blue, his lips thin.

"What were youse diggin up?"

"None of youse business," Lily replied, "Now get outta me way!"

"I'se t'ink not," the boy stood in her way.

"I'se said-"  
"Dat's a fake accent. Youse in some kind of trouble?"

Lily froze and shook her head.

"A friend den," he stated, his eyes looked sleepy but yet he looked wide awake. This boy was much too odd for Lily.

"I'se said-"

"Youse a friend of Lucinda's?"

She froze.

"Youse ah. Why didn't ya say so?"

"You know....Pretty?"

"Lucinda, yeah," the boy shrugged, "I'se known heh since we'se were kids. Da names 'The Artful Dodger', but everyone cawlls me Dodgah."

"Lily," she replied with a quick nod, "I need to go now."

"Awright, nice meetin' youse."

"Likewise, I suppose," Lily muttered before she walked quickly out of the cemetery.

-----------------------------------

It had become habit for him to look over his shoulder constantly, since he learned of his father's presence. Jack wished he knew where his father was, he needed something solid for him to attack if the insane man every attempted to harm him or another one of his newsies. Yet, his father had not yet made an appearance to him.

"You're worried about your father finding you," Sheriff drawled in her western accent.

Jack looked over at the Bronx newsie leader. She was a few inches shorter than himself; she wore a fringed jacket, buckskin pants; a white blouse; and hidden under her jacket was a pistol in its holster. He knew she had a gun around her waist, which the jacket concealed; and another tucked into her boot. The newsgirl leader was considered just as dangerous as Spot Conlon (many mistook her guns and pistols for toys).

"Maybe," he replied with a shrug before he placed his black cowboy hat atop his head. He glanced at Sheriff's hat, which was currently against her back as it hung from its light brown cord.

"You are," she replied, "I know you, Jack. Don't forget just how well I know you."

Jack chuckled, three years ago he and Sheriff had been a couple. The relationship ended a year later when they both found they'd be better off as friends.

"Yeah, youse do know me."

"That I do," Sheriff agreed, "Want me to have some of my newsies come out here-"

"No." Jack replied, "Spot offered da same t'ing, I'se toined him down too. I'se don't need a baby sittah or nuthin' like dat. I'se just need to be careful."

"More than careful," Sheriff replied, "From what Spot tells me your father is as batty as they come."

"Yeah, he is, and not in a funny sorta way."

"He used ta hit you?"

"When 'e was mad."

"I'm sorry," Sheriff said softly as she leaned against the bunkroom's door.

"Nuthin' youse did," Jack sat down on an empty bunk and rubbed his eyes. The strike had gained more power in the last few hours. Brooklyn had joined; and following Brooklyn came Bronx, Harlem, Queens, Long Island; Midtown; and Little Italy. The Leaders' meeting took nearly four hours; the time went by quickly though as they planned. Tomorrow night all newsies from all Buroughs would meet at Irving Hall. They'd have a large meeting, then they'd listen to Medda sing and have a good time. Jack had spoken to the singer an hour ago; after agreeing to the newsies meeting she surprised him by announcing every Thursday night to be Newsie Night. It would be free admission; drinks and food would only cost a penny; and only newsies would be permitted into Irving Hall that night.

When Jack had thanked her, she had smiled and laughed, 'How else vill I see you? You rarely come by anymore!' She gave him a quick hug before returning to her show.

"I hear your sweet on Warden Snyder's daughter."

"Why is it dat news spreads fastah dan da news about da strike?" Jack questioned in amazement. He stared at Sheriff in confusion.

Sheriff laughed, "When it involves a newsie leader being attracted to someone some dangerous, like the Warden's daughter, that news will spread like wildfire."

"Youse ain't kiddin'," Jack replied.

"How come you're ignoring her?"

"Who told youse dat?"

"Dodger," Sheriff shrugged, "He was here the last few days checking on Tumbler."

"Good big brother," Jack observed.

Sheriff nodded, "The best."

"I'se....She distracts me from da strike, from awll me thoughts, from everythin'. And more importantly, she's Snyder's daughter!"

"So what if she is? She's human and from what I see nothing like her father."

"Maybe not, but she ain't interested in me."

"If you were any blinder, Cowboy, you'd run into a wall!" Sheriff scoffed while she shook her head. She stood and turned for the door.

"It's late, why don't ya stay heah tanight?"

"No, I don't want my newsies worrying about me. Besides, Dodger's probably waiting outside."

"But he went back ta da Bronx," Jack frowned.

"Yes, and he's back now."

"How do youse know?"

"He's not called the Artful Dodger for nothing," Sheriff laughed, "Not only is he the world's greatest pick pocket. He's also the fastest runner in all of New York."

"No, dat would be Floaty," Spot interrupted with a smirk.

"We'll see," Sheriff chuckled before she walked out.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Patrick Sullivan paced back and forth. Where the hell had that blasted box gone?! Lucinda had run off, only God knows where too. But she'd be too afraid to get that box. Who had it? He walked into Manhattan, anger making his blood boil. That box had been in the damned Earth and someone had dug it up. But who?

He had to find it before he returned out west. That box contained the evidence of Emmaline Snyder's murder. It contained the picture of him killing the innocent woman; her blood soaked handkerchief; the dagger he used; and even the neck kerchief he had been wearing at the time. Damn! whoever had that box was going to have a dear, dear price to pay: their lives for interfering with his!

-------------------------------------------

"Thank you, Lillian!" Lucinda beamed as she hurriedly took the box, "This will provide us with the evidence to catch another criminal."

"Who?"

"The man who murdered your mother," the detective replied softly as she reached under her blouse and pulled out a long golden colored key. "Patrick Sullivan."

"Was Amanda Hearst your sister?" Lily asked.

Lucinda tensed, "Yes. Twin sister, actually."

"How did she wind up being with my parents?"

Lucinda stared at Lily, "Lillian. Amanda and I were born to my father, Arthur, he was in a relationship with Mr. Hearst's wife. As a result of their love behind her husband's back, she had two children, myself and Amanda. When we were born Mrs. Hearst told her husband we were his. A week later she said we had died, really she had given us to your parents. Then our mother gave me to your parents as well. They raised us for two weeks before our birth father came to get us. 15 years later Amanda died, but I survived."

"I'm so sorry....What happened to her?"

"Scarlet fever. Now I really must look at this evidence. You are not yet an official detective so you cannot be in the room when I open this box, I am sorry."

"But....It deals with my mother's murder and I brought the box to you!"

"I know and I apologize, I really am sorry, but you must go out of the room no," Lucinda began pushing Lily from her own room.

"This is my room!"

"And you shall have it back soon. In an hour or so I will return to the newsies. Right now they think I am visiting a friend in Queens."

"Lucinda!"

"I swear, when you are an official detective I will show you the contents of this box. I promise." The detective replied as she shut the door.

Lily began to kneel down to peep through the keyhole (may her mother, wherever she may be in the great beyond, never hear of this) to try to see. But Lucinda had stuffed something into the keyhole. Darn it. One day, by heck or high water, she would see the contents of that box.


	7. The Rally & Kidnap and rescue & Shot

**Disclaimer: I do not own Newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Lucinda AKA Pretty, AKA Amanda Hearst. I also own Lillian 'Lily' 'Cowgirl' Snyder and Patrick Sullivan.**

**_(A/N: Thanks for the great reviews! :) )_  
**

The next afternoon was rainy and dreary. Lucinda, once again posing as Pretty, leaned against the stage. The Manhattan Newsies had just arrived and were still taking their seats when the Brooklyn newsies, led by Spot Conlon, piled into the theater. She glanced over at Jack.

He was standing atop the stage with Medda, Spot soon joined them. The trio planned the evening: after all newsies arrived Tony (who usually only gave out candy) would be giving out hot dogs. Then, the leaders of the strike would address all newsies and try to win the skeptics over. Then Spot would tell Jack his opinion in front of all the newsies. Whatever Spot agreed on, every other newsie would agree on. All trusted the 'Newsie King.'

When she had first joined the newsies she hadn't understood what was so great about the small Brooklyn leader. Until she saw him in action. He was swift, tough, and always thought ahead. Lucinda was immediately impressed with him, it was not every day she met someone who had natural born detective skills. Sometimes, even now, she'd find herself worrying for a moment if he knew she wasn't a newsgirl. But, if he did, he never let on.

Hours later Lucinda sat on the edge of the stage, listening to Jack, Medda, and Spot. It was almost night and soon the rally would begin.

"Hey Pretty, Medda wants youse ta help heh sing!" Jack beamed down at her from the stage.

"Wh-What?" She stared up at Jack and her stomach twisted. She had survived as Pretty by staying in the shadows, keeping herself out of the spotlight, and mainly by minding her own business. She couldn't take the chance of one of these newsies knowing or being related to someone she had helped to bring to justice.

"Medda wants youse ta sing."

"I...I can't."

"Why not?" Jack squatted down and stared her in the eye, "Da only person who really can't sing 'round heah is Spot."

"Dat statement could influence me opinion on dis so called strike, Jacky-Boy." The Brooklyn newsboy leader exclaimed from the other side of the stage.

Jack chuckled before looking down at her.

"I...I know someone who can sing."

"What's heh name?" Jack asked.

One of the rules of being an effective detective was knowing how to think fast. She licked her lips and glanced around Irving Hall until her eyes landed on a poster: _Tired of Breaking Your Back For Someone Else's Sake? If the life doesn't seem to suit you, go out West! _

"Um...Cowgirl!"

"Cowgoil?" Spot asked as he looked over at her, "How come we'se aint heard of her?"

"She's new in town," Pretty shrugged, "Just arrived by train earlier today."

"And how do youse know heh?" Spot stared at her skeptically.

"She's me cousin, da last livin' relative I'se have. She needed a place so I brought heh heah. I'se will go get heh, she's got a great singin' voice, youse will see!" She turned and ran out of Irving Hall as fast as she could. She hoped Lillian would be able to forgive her.

---------------------------------------------

"Cowgirl....Sing?!" Lily's head was spinning from Lucinda's tale of Pretty's cousin from out west. Supposedly 'Cowgirl' could sing just as well as Medda. "I've never been out of New York! I've never been out west!" Her heart beat frantically.

"Now, I told you, being a detective means you must make effective lies. No one will go out west to whatever state or providence you say you come from," Lucinda exclaimed with a roll of her eyes. She then tossed Lily a stained white shirt; denim breeches; brown suspenders; a brown vest; a pair of cowboy boots; a brown leather belt with a turquoise belt buckle; and a straw cowboy hat. To finish the ensemble was an ankle length duster, which was worn and torn.

"Isn't this over doing it? How about I wear a blouse and skirt? I'll wear the boots and hat with it."

"No. You're a tomboyish cowgirl, now get dressed then I'll make you up so well your own father won't recognize you."

"Is he going to be there?" Lily asked with a jump, her eyes widened and her face paled. "If he learns what I am doing....I will be out of a home."

"Pish-posh, you will come live with me," Lucinda replied nonchalantly, "Now hurry and dress. We have....Only an hour, so don't dawdle."

"Easy enough for you to say," Lily muttered when Lucinda exited the bedroom. She sighed, how did she allow herself to get stuck in such situations such as this one? The cemetery and now this. To quote her mother on her favorite expression, "Lordy Lou."

She quickly dressed into the male attire and stared at herself in the mirror. The blouse and pants accentuated her feminine curves in a way she had never seen them before. A blush crept to her cheeks when she realized she looked a cross between manly and untamed with her hair being unruly from undressing and redressing so darned quickly.

Lucinda opened the door and beamed, "How lovely you look! Madeline! Hurry now!"

Madeline rushed in with Lily's hair brush and a make up set. She took off the cowboy hat and placed it on the bed and gently pushed Lillian onto the seat of her bedroom chair. Lucinda opened the make up set and began putting some sort of thick cream all over her face.

"What is that?"

"It's a base," she replied, "It will hide all your freckles and most of your face's identifying marks. Every detective going undercover has to wear this. If it would comfort you, I am wearing it right now." She continued to quickly dab the base on before she took what felt like a course sponge and evened it out.

"Owch!" Lily winced when Madeline tugged on her hair.

"Sorry, dear. I need to make your hair messy."

"Messy?"

"You are posing a rough and tough cowgirl," Madeline reminded her.

"I do not know how to act rough and tough, or man-ish at that!"

"You best learn quickly, then," Lucinda replied, "It is simple to do really. Just think of all the boys you've ever known...Wait...Have you known a boy being a boy, and not a prude?"

"Yes," Lily replied, "A young man who delivered my messages to me at school each morning. He was rather immature, making jokes, and acting younger than his age."

"That is what you would term a normal fellow," Madeline chuckled.

"Real boys and men do not mature fast. That man you are engaged to, Alexander BeeBee, or whatever. I am sure he has an immature side he will never show you," Lucinda commented as she began spinning a large brush into a glass container of loose facial powder. She quickly applied it to Lily's face before adding a little blush. Then she opened a wooden container filled with what looked like brown ink.

"What is that?"

"It's a powder used to make freckles."

"Why cover my freckles to put on more?"

"I'm not putting on more, I'm only putting on one. Now hold still." Lucinda scolded as she dabbed a wooden stick what a dull point into the powder. Then placed the tip of the stick under Lily's right eye and carefully made a tiny freckle.

"There now, you have a beauty mark. Look at yourself in the mirror," the detective ordered as she gathered the make up and put it back into case. She clasped the small black case shut and slid it under Lillian's bed.

Lily turned and stared at herself in the mirror, her heart nearly lunged from her chest. She barely recognized herself. Her hair, which had been neat and pinned, was now hanging loose around her shoulders and was by all means a rat's nest. Her face had a light tan to it, and the single freckle drew her attention to the side of her face rather than her nose and mouth.

Madeline placed the hat back onto Lillian's head. She slid the wooden bead up her chin, and Lily found the cords on the sides of her hat became tighter. Lucinda rushed behind her and tied a blue neck kerchief around her neck.

"Time to go now, thank you so much Madeline!" Lucinda smiled before she grabbed hold of Lily's wrist and dragged her from the house.

-----------------------------------------------------------

Patrick Sullivan watched as the bulls ran into Irving Hall, minutes later his son rushed out. He smiled and opened his arms in a wide embrace. He only had seconds to get his son before the bulls or those damned nosey strike breakers did. Fortunately Francis was glancing behind his shoulder in horror as another newsboy had been running out of the building alongside him was attacked by a police officer. He unknowingly ran straight into his father's arms.

"Hello, boy," Patrick beamed.

"...Fadda..."

Before his boy had a chance to overcome his shock, Patrick threw the newsboy into the back of the coach and locked the door. He ran quickly to the front of the coach and sat on the running board, then braced his feet and slapped the horses reigns. As the horses ran off like a bat from hell into the dark night he heard a loud 'thud' but assumed it was no more than his son trying to escape the prison on wheels.

--------------------------------------------------

"Oh, God! I didn't think he'd attempt to kidnap Jack right now! Not with all these police around!" Lucinda shouted as she watched the newsboy being thrown in the back of a black coach. She looked beside her and jumped when she noticed Lillian was gone. She spun around, then looked up as an officer on a horse rushed by her. Lily had climbed atop the wagon most of the strike breakers had come on when Patrick Sullivan's coach began to pass she jumped onto the roof.

"Lillian..." Lucinda whispered, "You're going to get yourself killed!" She ran after the coach, however the two horses were ten times faster than she could ever be. She tripped over a raised cobblestone and crumbled onto her hands and knees. The shock phased her for a moment, when she looked up the carriage and Lillian had vanished into the night.

-------------------------------------------------------

Lillian was not sure where the burst of courage or insanity had come from, however it had led her to jump onto the roof of a moving coach. Something she had never done in her life. Her heart pounded wildly with fear as her fingers clutched the luggage rack of the coach for dear life. She was on the roof of the box on wheels, Patrick Sullivan (an ugly man with a sour voice) had not yet taken notice of her. She had to find a way to get into that carriage and save Jack. But _how_?

The coach hugged a corner tightly and for a moment went onto the two left side wheels. Lillian's body slid halfway off the carriage, her hands slipped down the bars and she found herself hanging from the side of the carriage. Tears began to fall from her eyes, if she fell she could be run over! Worst yet, she'd never see the newsboy again. The thought of never seeing him again for any reason (let alone being kidnapped by his father) made her heart ache and her stomach queasy. Whatever the feeling was, she didn't like it.

"Put on your thinking cap, Lillian," she muttered to herself and looked at the side of the carriage. She was pressed against a glass window. Glass. Glass was breakable! She tightened her grip on the side of the luggage rack and heaved herself up as far as she could then pushed away from the side. For a moment her body hung in mid air, her feet having no support terrified her. Instead she focused on drawing her knees up to her chest. She poked her feet out and as she swung forward she unbent both her legs in a powerful kick. The glass shattered and she flew into the window.

"What da hell?!" Jack shouted.

"Jack?"  
Lillian looked up from small and narrow floor, Jack was squatting against one of the seats in the corner of the coach. He was staring warily at her, his eyes narrowed into slits. When they passed a lit street lamp his face lost its mistrust.

"Who ah youse?"

"Cowgirl," Lillian replied, "I saw your father shove you into this carri---coach---and I decided to come help you."

"Awright, how do youse suppose we'se gonna get outta heah?" He questioned.

How to get out of the coach? For a moment her mind went black, she stammered and looked around, then at the hole in the window she had literally flown through.

"We're going out through the window," she replied as she turned onto her stomach and pushed herself to her knees. She needed to get the broken glass out of the window frame. She recalled seeing her father doing this once many years ago when he helped a young girl from her apartment window. She untucked her blouse and felt her face heat as she blushed hard. She was glad for the duster covering what the blouse was not; she shrugged out of the shirt and buttoned her duster.

Lily glanced back at Jack, who was staring curiously at her, "Youse bettah hurry up, cause I'se gotta feelin' we'se gonna be at da train station soon."  
Lillian balled her fist and wrapped the blouse around it. She set her hand on the frame of the window and knocked the glass off, the shirt protected her hand as she cleared the jarred pieces of glass until the frame was smooth and safe.

"When he stops we'll jump out."

"Can't."

She turned, "Why not?"

Jack lifted his wrists and ankles, both were bound.

"Who....Tied you?"

"I'se did. It was eidda tie up me own ankles and wrists or have a nice large hole in between me eyes."

Lily forced herself onto her feet, the moment she was able to stand the carriage began to slow. She was knocked into the news boy's lap. She blushed in humiliation but pushed herself off him and onto the seat. He thrust his wrists as her and she quickly began working on the knot.

-------------------------------

Patrick pulled back the horse's reigns when they arrived at the train station. He could hear the sounds of shrill whistles behind him. If he didn't hurry he and his son would not make it back out west. He couldn't afford that. Those jewels for his for the taking and damn if he was going to let some blue-belly bull take his fortune from him!

He jumped off the running board and was about to open the door when Jack tumbled out followed by another figure.

"What the hell?" His eyes were wide with shock. The person, a young woman, turned and hit him. He grabbed hold of his nose, "You're gonna pay for that!"

----------------------------

Lillian grabbed hold of Jack's arm and helped to pull him to his feet. He looked over at her and his eyes widened in recognition, "Lillian Snydah?!"

"I'll explain later, run!"

Jack grabbed hold of her hand, "Not widdout youse, c'mon!" He ran from his father towards an alley way formed by the train station and its small house for the station's employees.

Lily's heart pounded as she ran with the cowboy, they had almost reached the mouth of the alley when a piercing pain went through her right shoulder. She opened her mouth to cry out, but her breath caught in her throat. A piercing pain then made itself known as she began to collapse.

"Lillian!"

-------------------------------

Patrick turned when he heard the shout, he stifled a curse when a man dressed in black followed by an army of bulls rushed towards him. He darted over the rails just before a train rushed past.

--------------------------

Jack's heart pounded, "Lillian!" He knelt to the ground beside her, and turned her onto her back. He wiped the last of her make up off with his sleeve and stared at her. Her face was so pale, even her freckles were pale. Her eyes fluttered open.

"Lillian," he whispered, "Just stay wid me, ok?"

Her hazel eyes were glazing with tears, "I'm....I'm sorry....Jack....I....I...I just..."

"Youse saved me life, twice," he replied softly, "You have no reason ta be sorry. It's me who should be sorry, not youse." How could have ignored her for so long? After the way he had treated her why would she have risked her to life to save him? Why? He had gone out of his way to ignore her, yet here she was.....She had rescued him from his father and even taken a bullet that was most likely meant for him. Guilt poured into his heart as he stared down at her, his stomach twisted when he lifted his hand to find it coated with blood.

"S....S....Sorry, I co...Couldn't save you....From....M...My father..." She stammered.

"LILLIAN?!"

Jack looked up and found Warden Snyder staring down at them, his face had lost all its color at the sight of his daughter.

"Me fadda...He..."

"I know what he did, and you helped him," the warden snarled.

"No! I'se did not help him, youse take dat back! It ain't true!" Jack shouted in anger and in hate, he stood and turned to run, but two hefty police officers blocked his path. He turned to the mouth of the alley way, but a small ocean of blue stood waiting for him.

"Take him to the refuge," Snyder growled before he slipped his arms under his daughter's shoulders and legs. "Get an extra coach, my daughter needs a hospital!"

-----------------------------

Lucinda ran into St. Mary's hospital in downtown Manhattan, her heart pounded. It had been hours since she last saw Lillian, she was on her back to the Lodging House when David Jacobs caught up with her and told her what he had seen. Lillian had been shot.

"Excuse me, but I need to know about Lillian Snyder," she exclaimed to a passing nurse.

"Don't know da name," the woman shrugged.

"Please, she has freckles, and light red hair, she was wearing a duster and a cowboy hat-"

"Oh yes, her. She's in a private room with her father. It's down da hall, Melinda! Where are the bandages?" She bellowed out.

Lucinda ran down the hallway and pushed curtains back of each room she ran across. Finally she found Lillian's. Her heart skipped a beat finding her young friend lying in the hospital bed asleep. Warden Snyder sat at her bedside.

He turned around his seat, "What do you want?"

"I...I'se a friend of hehs..."

"Young lady, my daughter does not befriend street trash," Snyder sneered, "I highly suggest you return to wherever you came from before I have Office McTeeny arrest you."

"But -"

"I am being very generous, which is not something anyone should expect of me during a time like this," he growled, "I shall count to three...One...Two..."

Lucinda turned and ran. This night was cursed! It was supposed to have run so smoothly. Damn, double damn!

-----------------------------

The next day while Snyder was in court Lucinda sat at Lillian's bed side. It was time for her to tell the truth, even if the other girl wasn't yet awake.

"Lillian, I lied to you about Amanda Hearst being my sister....The truth is....I'm an only child....And I am Amanda. I changed my name and my father helped me stage my death when I was 15. I had gotten involved with a dangerous boy....Alexander Busby. He's not who you and your father think he is....he's not...." She paused and glanced at her pocket watch, only half an hour until the judge ruled about the newsies and Jack's sentencing. She'd have to be there to maintain her identity as Pretty.

She took a deep breath, "You see...The grave you dug up was nothing more than an empty grave...But only I know that....Since my father is dead now....You know now too, I know you will not tell anyone. When you awaken, I promise to tell you of my past and show you the contents of that trunk you dug up...." She paused and gently squeezed the other girl's hand before taking her leave. She hoped the other girl would wake up soon. The only way she'd be able to arrest Warden Snyder is if Lillian helped provide the evidence, and at his trial took the stand against him....

----------------

_**(A/N: Lily is not down for the count. She's very stubborn and will be back on her feet in the next chapter. :) )**_


	8. A day later & We Beat Him!

_**Disclaimer: I do not own newsies or any of its characters, Disney does. I own Patrick Sullivan, Lucinda Addams, Lillian Snyder AKA Lily AKA Cowgirl. 'City Slickers Detective Agency' sounded like a good name, I have no idea if there is one or not. I named the ranch "The Old Dreamer" after Jack. :) The song is "Siuil a Run" by Celtic Woman.**_

_**(A/N: This is the final chapter, hope everyone likes it. :) And the chorus in english is: **_

_**Go, go, go my love **_

_**Go quietly and peacefully **_

_**Go to the door and flee with me **_

_**And may you go safely my dear. There are other versions of the chorus that are on Wikipeida.)**_

_**Siuil, siuil, siul a run,  
Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion....**_

Her shoulder pounded and her head ached. She gave a soft moan before forcing her eyes open, at first the room was blurry. She blinked until her vision cleared, she was lying in a hospital bed, her right arm in a sling. There was a pain in her shoulder, but it was at a dull roar. She felt as if she were stuck in a dream....She weighed as light as a feather. If she didn't know better she would have been convinced she was flying.

Then the memories returned to her: jumping on the carriage, rescuing Jack....And being shot by his father. God in Heaven. She had been _shot_. Never in her life could she have ever imagined something of that magnitude happening to her.

It was then another memory flashed at her, right before she had passed out she remembered seeing her father and many police officers surrounding him. They had caught Jack! She pressed her hands into the bed and forced herself to sit; the pain in her shoulder went from dull to a roar.

"Miss?! You must sit back down, right this instant!" Snapped the sharp voice of an older nurse.

"I'm leaving," Lillian replied.

"Oh? And how do you plan to do _that_ in only your hospital garbs?" She crossed her arms. Her beady brown eyes stared down her beak like nose at Lily.

Lillian shrugged, "By doing this," she replied in sarcasm before drawing back her fist and punching the woman hard. The nurse fell to the floor.

"Forgive me, miss, of that violent act. Of this act of indecency I am about to commit," Lily muttered before she pulled he room's curtains closed. She looked down at the nurse, she had either just arrived or was preparing to go home. Lily quickly exchanged her hospital gown for the nurse's white blouse and lily blue skirt, and brown boots.

_**Siuil, siuil, siul a run,  
Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan....**_

Lucinda held the bundle of papers Jack, Sarah, and David had created along with Denton's help. A lot had happened the previous day: Jack turned scab; Davey got somewhat soaked by the Delancey brothers; Jack went back to being the strike leader; and now they were taking a stand against the newspaper giants. About damned time.

She still remembered Cowboy's face when he visited Lillian's hospital room hours ago. A look of extreme guilt had crossed his face.

_"She wouldn't want youse ta feel guilty, Jack," _Lucinda, in the guise of Pretty, had said.

_"Youse hated heh, how would youse know what she'd want?"_ He'd questioned.

It was then Lucinda knew her cover had been blown. But for once, she didn't mind. She showed Jack her badge and told him she was working with Lillian and another detective to put Warden Snyder behind bars. Then she revealed that Lily had no formal training, at first Jack didn't believe her. But when Lucinda went through Lily's disguise as Cowgirl he saw she was telling the truth. There wasn't a badge in sight.

Lucinda didn't have to tell him to keep their secret. He had beaten her to the punch, he had sworn never to tell another living soul who they were.

Now....Now it was war. With the newsies and herself handing out papers; while 5 of her detectives searched for Patrick Sullivan; and the rest gathered the needed evidence. Lucinda smirked. Oh, how she wished to be a fly on the wall when her detectives kicked open his office door (just for a grand entrance of course) and began going through the warden's desk drawers. After Lily was shot Madeline stayed in the hospital with her and heard a very incriminating conversation between Snyder and one of his goons. The goon was none other than Morris Delancey himself, who for ten dollars, agreed to testify against the warden.

Lucinda handed a sweaty and tall boy in the butcher shop a newspaper before quickly moving along. She hoped Lily would awaken soon; the only way the judge would arrest Snyder was if they had a key witness who knew more than any other witness. That witness, was the warden's very own daughter.

_**I wish I was on yonder hill  
'Tis there I'd sit and cry my fill,  
And every tear would turn a mill...**_

Lillian ran through the streets, she ignored her aching shoulder and focused only on Jack. Would he forgive her for dressing like a Cowgirl? Or would he return to ignoring her? Why did she bother to care? But the knowledge that she could have caused him to be in that refuge until his 21st birthday tore he heart to pieces.

Where was she to look? The streets were crowded with people, as usual. Women who were in the same social class as she moved away from her when seeing her hair was hanging down around her shoulders, instead of being properly pinned. She could care less. From here on, Lillian Snyder was dead. She'd only return from the grave once to put her father in jail. After that day she would stay dead and buried. Lily would assume a new name and live as a detective. If Lucinda wasn't too angered with her and still decided to give her the job. If not, Lily would find another job. She knew she could support herself.

She didn't need the fancy bobbles, the everyday dressed that more resembled ball gowns, nor did she need Alexander Busby. The two timing....Frog! Every nurse figured her to be just another person walking through, they chattered about the handsome Alexander and how he flirted with the 'beautiful' Ms. Sally. Then she had heard that Alexander had decided to call his engagement off with Ms. Snyder. She had practically danced out of there. But she would have been noticed too easily and her shoulder would have ached more than it currently was.

She scanned the streets and heard shouts, newsies were selling papers again? Her heart stopped for a moment. Had they lost the strike....Because of her? If they had lost the strike....It would be her fault....She was the reason they had caught the strike leader.

"Jack, I'm so sorry. Forgive me," she muttered before leaning against a building. It had been only a twenty minute walk (and sometimes a run) from the hospital, but it exhausted her. Damned bullet, damned medicine, damned Laudanum. She sighed, her language had fallen apart just as she had. Oh well.

For every good thing that happened, a bad thing would always follow. That's just the way world worked. Dark followed light, always attempting to defeat it. Though in the end, goodness and light always shines through, though at times it may be too late...It was always does one way or another.

_**I'll sell my rock, I'll sell my reel,  
I'll sell my only spinning wheel,  
To buy my love a sword of steel...**_

Jack sat on top of the large piles of newspaper stacked in the hollow wagon. The wagon reminded him too much of his dream of Santa Fe. Someone would have thought the wagon would be traveling along the Oregon trail, though travelers would wonder why it remained uncovered. His thoughts returned to Lillian.

She had been so courageous the other night. How the hell had she known to jump into the coach that way? He had no idea it was her, he had gotten the shoes shocked off him. Then when she took the bullet, that was undoubtedly meant for him, something in his mind had clicked. He had been a jack ass. An utter, complete, imbecile. The girl of his dreams was standing right in front of him, but instead he chased after the little brained Sarah Jacobs.

"Jack? Are you alright?" Sarah questioned before she reached to touch his hair.

"I'se fine," he moved away from her reach.

"Are you sure? You've....Never moved away from me...Like that....Did I do something wrong?" Her eyes held a look of confusion within them.

"Youse did nuthin' wrong, da only one who did somethin' wrong was me foah nearly givin up'," he replied.

"Oh yes, but you came back the strike and me."

_And hopefully to Lillian, if she'll forgive me_, he thought to himself. It was then he spotted a short figure crumpling down a wall. The face was instantly recognizable. Lillian Snyder.

"STOP DA WAGON!" He shouted.

"Jack?!" David pulled the horses to a stop and turned around in his seat.

Jack ignored his and Sarah's questioning shouts. He knelt down beside Lily.

"Lily? Ah youse ok?"

She looked up at him and a small smile tugged at the edges of her mouth, "Jack...Hi...I was uh...Looking for you actually. I was just taking a break, I'm fine. Are you alright? I'm so sorry I got you caught...I should have been faster-"

"No, youse did nuthin' wrong," he replied as he put his fingertips over her lips, "It was me fault...I'se treated ya like garbage. Forgive me?"

"Of course, if you'll forgive me."

"For what?" He questioned as he leaned forward, an eyebrow raised.

_**Siuil, siuil, siul a run,  
Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan...**_

This was very unlady like and nothing like her. But, she didn't care. She had waited since the first moment she had met him in the park two months ago for this moment. She leaned forward quickly and kissed him on the lips. Her heart pounded wildly, blood quickly flowed to her cheeks causing her to blush, and she felt as if her body was on fire.

At first the newsboy didn't respond, but his arms wrapped around her and he eagerly returned her kiss. When he pulled away she looked into his eyes and saw happiness.

"For that."

"No reason ta be sorry for dat!" He beamed before picking her up into his arms.

"Don't carry me, please?"

"Why not?"

"Because I can walk, and I'd prefer too. I heard a doctor tell one of his patients that walking helps the side effects of all pain medications to leave the body faster. And to tell the truth, I really do not enjoy the feeling of flying after I have been dosed with laudanum...I feel sick."

"Good reason, den," Jack replied before setting her down. She leaned against him and walked over to the uncovered wagon. He picked her up and placed her atop a pile of newspapers before climbing on next to her.

"Jack. Who is this?"

Lily turned and nearly jumped at seeing the brunette Jack had been with lately. The girl was staring at Lily as if her icy glare would turn into two sharp daggers and stab her repeatedly through the heart.

"Dis heah is Lillian, also known as Cowgoil, she's me goil Sarah."

Lily had not been expecting that turn of events. She figured maybe he liked her but....his girl? She looked up at him, his eyes were sparkling and seemed to be waiting for an answer. She realized the statement was also a question to her.

"Yeah, I'm his 'goil'," she replied, her accent stunk and caused Jack to laugh.

"I didn't know you had a girlfriend....You acted as though I was the one for you," Sarah commented haughtily, "After all...I wore my best dress to Irving hall for you."

"Sorry if youse took it dat way," Jack shrugged, "I'se thought youse knew I'se was askin' youse ta go around wid me as a friend."

"No, I didn't," she huffed.

"If ya wanna go-"

"NO."

"Sarah," David grumbled.

"No, I want to stay."

"Den lets keep givin' out da papes," Jack smiled.

_**I'll dye my petticoats, I'll dye them red,  
And 'round the world I'll beg my bread,  
Until my parents shall wish me dead...**_

Hours later when the sun was high in the sky Lucinda stood in newspaper row. Everyone but Jack, David, and Sarah had returned. It was right after Racetrack had wondered (quite loudly) where he was that David's voice answered the question.

Lucinda looked up and her eyes widened. Jack was walking with his arm around Lillian, both were beaming from ear to ear. David was walking behind them, and Sarah was lagging far behind looking angry and irked.

"Hello, Pretty," Lily smiled to her.

"Yeah...Hi, what da heck is a goil like youse doin' in a place like dis?" She asked snidely.

"Just...Hanging around," she replied with a smile and a quick wink.

Happiness gathered in Lucinda's heart. Lillian was alright! Heck, she was better than alright - she was great!

"Do youse t'ink anyone will come?" Mush frowned.

"Give dem time," Jack replied as he sat down, "Just give dem time..."

_**Siuil, siuil, siul a run,  
Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan...**_

It was nearly four hours later that loud singing and bell ringing echoed throughout the streets on Manhattan. Hundreds of working kids from all Burroughs in New York gathered in Newsie Square. All cheering, all joining the newsies, a thousand voices all combing into one loud voice that could not be ignored.

After the huge group of kids had gathered Jack and David had went into Pulitzer's office. Minutes later he poked his head out the window, causing everyone to cheer and shout 'strike!' Minutes later he walked out of the building, whispered something to Les Jacobs, lifted the small boy onto his shoulders and shouted at the top of his lungs, "We'se beat 'um!"

Shouting, clapping, and hoots were heard as Jack was slapped on the back. The celebration suddenly halted as a large black paddy wagon rolled into newsie square. Jack had attempted to run, but Denton had stopped him. From the back of the jail wagon newsies and other street kids were released, along with Crutchy. Then Snyder was brought to the Paddy wagon, Lucinda showed her badge and placed him under arrest. Soon after, Crutchy slammed the door shut and everyone cheered once again.

Teddy Roosevelt invited Jack into his carriage. The two left for the train station, only to soon return...With Jack.

"Lillian!" He shouted.

Lily gazed over her shoulder, tears were still falling down her cheeks. When Jack had decided to leave for Santa Fe her heart had broken. He hadn't invited her along or even said goodbye.

"Jack?"

"Lily," he beamed, "I'se ain't goin' nowhere," he commented before pulling her into a long and hard kiss. The newsies and everyone else began to cheer, except for Sarah.

"Hey Jack," David exclaimed, "I thought youse were leavin," he commented. Jack smirked, it was about time that kid made himself look and sound like a newsie, since he was more than accepted now.

"Nah, I'se got moah headlines at sell," Jack smirked.

"Headlines don't sell papes, newsies sell papes," David retorted.

Lily turned and watched as Oscar, Morris, and their Uncle Weasel were forced out of the World Distribution Center. They were unhappy about their predicament, but everyone else was ecstatic. Spot raised his hand and waved as he left in Teddy Roosevelt's carriage. Following soon after was Jack with a hundred papes under one arm; and Lily in the other.

Lucinda ran over, "Lillian. About the job offer," she smiled.

"I'm not qualified?"

"No, not that," Lucinda replied, "Silly. I was wondering if you'd do me the honor of being the head of _my _undercover division of the Pinkerton Detective Agency?" A few former strike breakers, who worked the other Pinkerton agency in town grumbled as they shoved past.

"Of course," she beamed.

Lucinda handed her a badge, "And you remember the rules? You know, each detective has to make their first rule."

"Alright," she beamed, "Here's mine: An Effective Detective Can Always Fall In Love."

Lucinda laughed, "Oh, Lillian! I'm so glad you still have a sense of humor...However, shouldn't we bring you back to the hospital?"

"No thank you very much."

Jack and Lucinda both chuckled before walking out on the streets together...

_**Siuil, siuil, siul a run,  
Siuil go sochair agus siuil go ciuin  
Siuil go doras agus ealaigh lion  
Is go dte tu mo mhuirnin slan...**_

_**Epilogue**_

Warden Snyder was sentenced to 20 years in jail for crimes against children. Patrick Sullivan, meanwhile, had been found outside of Arizona in a shallow grave; a bullet through his skull. The local sheriff assumed he was killed by his own gang for not sharing the jewels he had stolen from the Duke. The jewels were found and returned to the German man by none other than Lucinda Addams.

Lillian was the star witness. A month after the trial she moved into Manhattan Newsies Lodging House and sold most of her fancy dresses and bobbles. Half the money was put into repairs for the lodging house while the other half was saved for later use. As the years passed by, the pile of coins grew and grew. 3 years after the strike Cowboy Jack Kelly proposed to Lily 'Cowgirl' Snyder. The two married and after their wedding moved out west, to Santa Fe.

They were able to purchase a small spread of land (because of Lucinda's wedding gift: 100 dollars). Jack, finally a cowboy, managed to make the spread into a running and prospering ranch. At the same time Lillian founded the 'City Slickers' Detective Agency, which remains to this day one of the top detective agencies in the country.

Jack and Lillian had a son they named Matthew Kelly, who now runs their ranch in Santa Fe....Perhaps you've heard of it....It's called: _The Old Dreamer._ If you ever visit be sure to look at Jack and Lily's graves. Some say on nights of a full moon they hear singing and laughter....During the nights when the moon hides her face, some swear they hear the loud shouts always repeating one word: _Strike! _

On the ranch, we figure it's just Jack and his wife remembering the best time of their lives.


End file.
